


The paths we choose

by eatyourveggies



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 111,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatyourveggies/pseuds/eatyourveggies
Summary: While entering the final stages of planning for the heist against the Royal Mint, Sergio Marquina bumps into the police Inspector most likely to become in charge of ending it, Raquel Murillo. Intrigued by the newly separated woman he expects to become his foe, Sergio is unable to keep away from her. Meanwhile, Raquel quickly deduces there is more to the new man in her life than meets the eye, takes matters into her own hands and decides to join forces with him. But even with the best laid plans, Sergio and Raquel quickly learn that the outcome is far from given.An exploration of how a chance encounter two years ahead of schedule sends ripples through the lives of those involved for years to come.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 335
Kudos: 345





	1. Meeting

_“This is Inspector Sara Gonzáles. I’m here with… Could you state your names for the record please?”_

_“Paula Vicuña.”_

_“Alberto Vicuña.”_

_“And Mr. Vicuña, you are the father and legal guardian of Paula, is that correct?”_

_“Yes, that’s right.”_

_“Alright. Now Paula, it’s important that you understand that you’re not in any trouble, but we do need to ask you some questions.”_

_“Ok.”_

_“Good. Are you feeling ok? Can we get you anything to drink?”_

_“I’m fine, thanks.”_

_“Let’s start then. Paula, how old are you?”_

_“I’m fifteen.”_

_“And how old where you when you last saw your father?”_

_“Six.”_

_“So, it’s been nine years.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And have you been in Spain during that time?”_

_“No.”_

_“Where have you been?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Have you been with your mother, Raquel Murillo, during that time?”_

_“Yes, I have.”_

_“And is your mother still alive?”_

_“She is.”_

_“And Sergio Marquina?”_

_“What about him?”_

_“Is he still alive?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula honey, please answer the question. This is important.”_

_“Yes, Sergio is still alive.”_

_“What do you know of the circumstances under which you left Spain?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Are you aware of the fact that your departure and subsequent absence from Spain has been treated as a case of kidnapping of a minor?”_

_“I am.”_

_“Ok, good. And Paula, when did you come back to Spain?”_

_“Yesterday.”_

_“Yesterday.”_

_“Yes, yesterday. You already know this.”_

_“Did you come alone?”_

_“No, I was escorted by the police.”_

_“And your mother?”_

_“What about her?”_

_“Does she know where you are?”_

_“No.”_

_“Does Sergio Marquina?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula? Does Sergio Marquina know that you’re back in Spain?”_

_“No, he doesn’t.”_

### 

_**MADRID, two years before the heist at the Royal Mint** _

Everything was coming together. After what seemed like a lifetime of planning, everything was finally coming together and the date was set. In almost exactly two years, Sergio would deal the authorities a blow so hard it would shake the very foundation of a fundamentally corrupt and unjust system, the people of Spain would see that resistance was possible, and they would rise. 

He had been dismayed to learn two months earlier that the hacker he had planned to recruit had been arrested and extradited to the US, but such was the nature of this business and it was far preferrable it happened now, rather than closer to the date. He would find another disillusioned IT-genius to take on the role. Luckily for him there was no shortage of them given the current state of the world. He’d been right not to approach any of the team members yet. Other than his brother, none of them had any idea of what he had in store for them, which was exactly how Sergio wanted it. Not knowing of the existence of his plan, they wouldn’t be able to use it as a bargaining chip should they get in trouble with the authorities in the coming two years. 

He was on his way to the bar the Hanoi where he was establishing himself as a regular given its proximity to the Royal Mint, deep in thought about the attributes he needed to compliment his team. He still needed to identify one additional team member, other than an IT-expert, and it was crucial to find the right person. Slowing down, he got his notebook out to quickly jot down a few thoughts on how different personalities might interact under pressure. Coming around a corner, head in his notebook, he bumped into a small frame, causing him to drop both pen and notebook, and the woman he bumped into to drop her phone and curse loudly.

“Fuck!”

Sergio bent down to gather his things as well as the woman’s phone and when he stood back up, found himself face to face with none other than Raquel Murillo. 

Two years too early.

Inspector Raquel Murillo had risen in the ranks in the past years thanks to a few high-profile cases she’d successfully negotiated. Realising she was increasingly likely to be put in charge of the heist, Sergio had begun researching her. Based on what he’d read, she was a highly skilled negotiator, made sound decisions under pressure, wasn’t easily destabilised and had integrity, displaying an ethical approach to her work. Recently separated from her husband of almost five years, she had a four-year-old daughter and since the separation the Inspector’s mother, Mariví Fuentes, had come to live with her.

Sergio’s mind went blank. He should excuse himself and walk away but the Inspector was cursing like a sailor, and it both amused and intrigued him. Trying to will his feet to move, he instead found himself asking, “Is everything alright?”

“Fucking piece of shit phone…” Fully focused on her phone, the Inspector paid no attention to him, but she eventually seemed to clock that he had said something and looked up with a mix of annoyance and confusion. “Sorry, what?”

Uncomfortable under her gaze, Sergio thought he should have just handed her the phone and walked away. But he hadn’t and she was now rather impatiently waiting for him to repeat what he’d said. He really should have kept walking. 

Shifting from one foot to the other, eyes darting between the Inspector and her phone, he cleared his throat. “I said is everything alright?”

She sighed deeply, “No. It isn’t.”

“Did it break?” At her questioning look he added, “The phone. Did it break?”

“Oh.” She held up the device in question, “It sure as shit did.”

Sergio chuckled at her cursing but quickly bit back the laughter as she shot him a dirty look. “I… I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Raquel eyed the stranger up and down. She was having a particularly shitty day which was now culminating with a cracked phone thanks to this fumbling idiot. 

She had finally left her abusive husband two months prior and to say that Alberto was making her life difficult was an understatement. He would show up at all hours, demanding to take their daughter or to pick something up from the house that he’d left behind. He’d shown up at her work that day to berate her for being a terrible mother as she’d forgotten to pack a change of clothes for Paula who was spending the weekend with him. He’d made sure everyone around heard him scolding her and she could tell from the looks she got that she had already lost the battle. It was written all over her colleagues’ faces that it was somehow her fault that her husband put on such a show for them, and that between the two of them, she was the unprofessional one for bringing her personal business into the workplace. Not him, _her_. It made Raquel’s blood boil. It didn’t matter that these were her colleagues and that she’d more than proven herself over the years. She couldn’t win. 

She was emotionally exhausted and at the end of her rope in her private life, only just starting to feel the depths of the gashing wounds Alberto had left her with. The turmoil of her personal life coincided with her patience with the patriarchal structure of the police wearing increasingly thin. She had always known that being a woman in the police force meant she would have to work twice as hard as everyone else, but she had, perhaps naïvely, not fully expected to have to continue to prove herself throughout her career. She would look at some of her male colleagues and be struck by how their authority was always accepted, regardless of their actual competences, or lack thereof. When they walked into a room, it was assumed they were there for a reason, that they were good at their job. In contrast when she walked into a room, she was faced with a sceptical audience, arms crossed in defiance, and silent demands that she prove she earned her spot there. Or as was more often the case, a refusal to listen to her as she had clearly taken the job from a more qualified man, the assumption being that she was there simply to tick the box of women in the work force. With every new assignment came the same old nonsense: a joke about her period, an offer of sex to help her “relax”, a reprimand for her inability to “take a joke”. It was pure and utter bullshit, and Raquel was well sick of it. 

She was working long hours, always felt like she was neglecting her daughter, and for what? For never being treated as simply a police officer, but always a woman first, for having to put up with whatever dim-witted, vaguely or overtly sexist joke someone, regardless of how high or low in the chain of command, would throw her way. To add insult to injury, everyone around her thought she was neglecting her daughter as well, that she was a selfish mother. No one ever berated Alberto for the same, even though he had accumulated far more overtime than she had over the years. She sighed heavily. 

_Fuck it all._

And now this stranger had bumped into her, the screen of her phone was cracked, and for whatever reason he looked at her with kind, soft eyes, appearing flustered, shocked almost. As he was squirming under her stare, Raquel realised that he had apologised, that she hadn’t answered him, and that he wasn’t to blame for her shitty day, that he’d merely caught her at the backend of it.

She shrugged and managed to give him a small, crooked smile. “Just one of those days I guess.”

“There’s a repair shop just down the street, why don’t we take it there and you let me pay for it. It’s the least I can do.” Seeing her sceptically sizing him up, he quickly added, “I’m sure they can get it done while we wait.”

Raquel shifted her gaze from her phone, to the man, to the bus she’d meant to catch but now saw driving away, and nodded. She followed him to the shop in silence and when he nervously opened the door for her, softened a bit. He looked mortified yet like he wanted to be there, and Raquel had no idea what to make of him. She handed in her phone and turned to him, catching him standing awkwardly looking around the shop. Shifting from one foot to the other, he checked his watch. 

“Am I keeping you from something?”

He looked up at her in surprise. “What?” He nudged his glasses and shook his head. “No, no. Not at all.” 

“Ok. So… What had you so preoccupied you ended up breaking my phone?”

Raquel hadn’t thought it possible for him to look even less at ease, but she’d managed to achieve just that. She couldn’t deny she found it both endearing and rather entertaining to see his eyes grow wide in panic and watch him squirm. He must have caught her smirk though, as he eventually calmed down, chuckling.

“Uhm.. I’m starting a business, and there are constantly new things to plan for and deal with, both problems and opportunities. I was writing down some ideas on how different types of personalities can affect the business, when, well…” 

He gestured towards her with a small, crooked smile and she nodded in return.

Walking around the small shop, Raquel inspected the many gadgets on display, “So much crap to buy… What kind of business are you starting?”

“I’m going to make cider.”

“Cider? Huh… I didn’t expect that.” 

Sergio was going to ask what she had expected, but before he had the chance, Raquel had picked something up, exclaiming, “Ah!” She turned to him with an excited smile and held up a magic eight ball, shaking it. “Go on, ask a question.”

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s easy. Ask anything. You can ask about your cider business.”

Her excitement contagious, Sergio snickered and thought for a moment. “Alright, let me see.” Sergio was trying to come up with the perfect question, but found them all to be too personal and feared they would give her a hint about the fact that the business he was planning was technically not a cider one.

She tapped her foot impatiently, “Go on then. Surely there’s something you want the answer to. I’m offering you a chance at glancing into the future. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Alright. Will my business go according to plan?”

Raquel turned the ball over, “Concentrate and ask again.”

Sergio rolled his eyes, “Please.”

“Well… Do as it says. Concentrate. And ask again.”

“Really?” Raquel answered him with a raised eyebrow, “Ok, fine. I’m concentrating.” He took an exaggerated breath and focused on the ball, “Will my business in large go according to plan?”

Raquel shook the magic eight ball and flipped it. “My sources say no.” She looked at him, scrunching her nose, “Sorry. I guess you need to go over your plans again.”

He nudged his glasses, adding drily, “Yes, if the magic eight ball says so, then definitely.”

“Right?” Amused by his reaction, she put the ball down and leaned over the counter, checking its content.

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“You suggested you weren’t having the greatest of days before I… Well… Broke your phone.”

Raquel laughed lightly and shot him an amused look. She’d had a rough few months, a rough few years to be honest, and this unexpected encounter with a stranger had slowly begun turning her day around. After years of psychological, and eventually physical, abuse from Alberto, she wasn’t prone to sharing details of her life with much of anyone, but this stranger provided her with the perfect opportunity to break that cycle. He’d asked her about her day, and she had nothing to lose. She tucked her hair behind her ear and decided to tell the truth. Not the whole truth, but enough to get things off her chest and hopefully put the gloom of this day behind her.

“Well… To be honest it’s mostly down to my soon to be ex-husband. He has turned making my life difficult into a sport. And he’s truly excelling at it.”

“Oh. Well… I suppose everyone has to be good at something?”

Raquel laughed, “I guess you’re right.” Whatever she had expected this man to be when she bumped into him, this certainly wasn’t it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Salvador. Salva.”

“I’m Raquel.” She held out her hand to him and smiled as he took it, “It’s nice to meet you Salva.”

He nodded, “And you, Raquel.”

Sergio had no idea what was happening to him. Making the Inspector laugh had invoked feelings in him he wasn’t used to and when he shook her hand, it had sent a discernible sensation through him. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to spend more time with her, and he blurted out the words before he had a chance to stop himself, “Would you like to have a drink? When your phone is ready, I mean.”

It was Thursday, Paula was with Alberto for the weekend, she could definitely do with a drink, and this man, Salva… There was something about him. She wasn’t certain of what yet, but there was definitely something about him. “Sure, why the hell not.” 

He smiled shily and nodded, she was handed back her phone as he paid for the repair, and she followed him out the door.

One drink turned into another, then dinner and, much to her surprise, Raquel genuinely enjoyed herself. The conversation flowed easily and she found herself drawn to Salva. He was intelligent, shy, had an unexpected, somewhat understated, sense of humour and he seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say which after the day, nay year, she’d had, was a welcome change. 

They exchanged number before parting ways. Reeling from her separation and the too many bad years that had preceded it, Raquel didn’t think anything would come of it. But her mother questioned her at breakfast the morning after, and immediately encouraged her to, quite literally, get hers. She had a busy day at work and forgot all about Salva, but as she was heading out, Ángel caught up with her.

“Raquel, Raquel!”

She turned to him, suppressing a sigh. Ever since she told her partner of her separation, he’d been annoyingly attentive towards her and Raquel knew it was only a matter of time before he’d begin dropping hints about the one night they’d spent together six years earlier, right before she met Alberto. She and Ángel had been friends, good friends, for years, but she needed space, and he refused to give it to her. She forced herself to smile.

“Ángel… What’s going on?”

“I just wanted to see if you wanted to grab a drink?”

She most certainly did not want to grab a drink with him. But his question made Raquel think of the previous evening with Salva, and how the prospect of seeing him again made her feel that anxious mix of nervousness and excitement she hadn’t felt since the early days with Alberto. 

“Oh, I’m sorry but I’m really tired and just want to get home. Another time?”

Ángel nodded sadly, she wished him a good weekend, headed out, and called Salva when she got home.

After bidding Raquel farewell on Thursday evening, Sergio wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. For reasons he couldn’t comprehend but wrote down to excitement over being so close to the person who’d be in charge of the heist, he had felt elated, alive and hadn’t wanted the evening to end. _Shit._ He was in over his head. 

From what he’d read about the Inspector, she was the person best placed to be in charge and ensure no one would get hurt, and he was not about to compromise that. The heist was two years away and the sooner he parted ways with Raquel Murillo, the better. He’d briefly lost track of his priorities after bumping into her, but now that he was seeing things clearly again, he was going to stay away from her. He deleted her number to avoid any possible temptation, and redirected his focus to the plan. As his thoughts kept wandering back to Raquel, he was further convinced he’d made the right choice in not keeping her number. He couldn’t see her again, couldn’t risk it. 

And then it was Friday night, and she called. 

Raquel called, he quickly agreed to have dinner with her the following evening, and after hanging up, Sergio was left dumbfounded. He had just decided to stay away from her, and all it took was her asking him out to dinner for him to accept. This wasn’t like him and, trying to make sense of it, he justified his decision to see her again by focusing on the things he could learn from her about the unofficial workings of police procedures and protocols. That was it, he was doing research. That was all it was going to be. He was going to stay focused.

The minute he saw her walking into the bar the next night and felt himself grinning like a fool, he should have realised he didn’t stand a chance, and left. But he didn’t and an hour later found himself in a discussion about his never-ending need for planning.

“So you’re telling me, that you’ve never acted only on impulse? Simply taken a car and driven, not knowing where you were going? Just because you needed to move, to breath?”

He shook his head, accentuating his stance with his hands, “Never. And I never would.”

“Oh, you never would, would you?” She asked pointedly, an eyebrow raised.

“No.”

She smiled, not quite believing what she was hearing. “How could you possibly know that with absolute certainty?”

“I know myself.”

“Well that may be, but you know yourself now, in the life you’re currently living, and things change… But fine, for the sake of argument, let’s say that things didn’t change, that you never changed. You could know everything about yourself and how you tend to react in any given situation which, I might add, no one really does, but even then, you couldn’t know for sure that you would never do something impulsive in the heat of the moment. Because you never know what life will throw at you.”

“I know that. But with the right planning, you can structure away the element of uncertainty.”

“But you can’t control every parameter, Salva. That’s impossible.”

He nudged his glasses and pinched his index and thumb in the air. “No, but I can control enough to minimise the possibilities or risks of certain events occurring.”

She huffed and shot him a sarcastic look, “How fun.” 

“Fun or not, the window of opportunity, or risk if you will, is closed.”

She took a sip of her drink and Sergio thought the discussion was over, but putting her drink back down, Raquel picked up right where she left off. “Besides, minimising the risks doesn’t mean it won’t happen. Your window is still there.”

“No.”

Her jaw dropped at his obstinance and her hands came up in frustration. “No?! You _just_ said it yourself!”

“Fine. There’s a window. A closed window. And it’s one so narrow, it barely matters.”

“Ah.” Smirking, she raised her glass at him in victory. “But it’s a window nonetheless. And who knows, you might actually enjoy the sunlight and fresh air sipping in through your ever so narrow, closed window.”

“I enjoy fresh air and sunlight, that’s not what we were discussing.”

She shrugged. “Don’t blame me for your poor choice of metaphors, just come up with better ones. Or better yet, stop making ridiculous assertations.”

Sergio wasn’t used to these kinds of exchanges. Sure, he’d had variations of this discussion with his brother, but in those they stood at complete opposites of the spectrum, rehashing opinions they’d been throwing at each other since Sergio was in his late teens. But Raquel was mixing intellectual points with emotional ones, and he was completely taken aback, and taken in, by the woman in front of him who was currently laughing, pleased with having punctuated his arguments. And he could’ve sworn he heard her proclaim “I win” just before taking another sip of her drink. This woman and the effect she had on him was a mystery to Sergio.

Raquel hadn’t laughed or felt this at ease in years. The stakes of the evening were low, and with the reality of her life temporarily set aside she had allowed herself to simply get to know Salva, a man who’s company it turned out she genuinely enjoyed. She mentally thanked her mother for pushing her to go out with this man and as he was paying the bill and they got up to leave, she decided she wasn’t ready for the evening to end.

They stood at the entrance of the pub and he helped her with her coat when she stretched up and pressed her lips to his. While she already knew she was attracted to him, she hadn’t expected the jolt of arousal shooting through her body the second her lips met his. She opened her eyes as she stood back down and, intent on following her mother’s advice, asked him to take her back to his place. He swallowed hard and nodded, opening the door for her. It was pouring down outside, and she turned to him questioningly. He flipped his collar up in response, took her hand and began running. Raquel yelped as the rain hit her face, but soon found a childish delight at running through the rain, letting his hand guide her. The rain, her hand in his, running through the streets of Madrid. She hadn’t felt this alive in far too long.

They were both soaked by the time they reached his building and he let them in. They removed their coats and shoes, stomping off the rain, when they found themselves face to face. Raquel’s eyes came to rest on his lips briefly and her breath hitched when she looked up and saw her own desire reflected in his now dark eyes. He crashed his mouth onto hers and picked her up, making her squeal. With Raquel’s hands in his hair and her tongue grazing his, Sergio struggled to focus on what he was doing, but she had begun shivering against him and he took them to the shower. He sat her down, came in with her and turned on the hot water. He removed his glasses, and they both started freeing themselves of their wet clothes. Missing the contact, Sergio put his hands on her hips and pulled her towards him, capturing her lips with his. She moaned at the sensation of his growing erection pushing against her lower abdomen and pressed her body even closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Sergio had never experienced a desire as strong as this before. He’d been with other women and had enjoyed having sex with them, but he’d never before lost himself fully in the moment. He’d always been acutely aware of what was happening and was constantly planning the next moves. But now, in the shower of the warehouse he’d only planned to use two years later but had luckily already prepared, the only thing he was aware of was the feeling of Raquel’s entire body pressing against him under the hot stream.

Raquel hadn’t expected Salva to be quite as fit as he was, and found herself even more turned on once her hands were running up and down his exposed chest and arms. The hot water flowing down their bodies, he pushed her against the wall, and the feeling of his erect cock stroking her clit back and forth was pushing her close to the edge. God, she truly needed a good fuck. 

She hooked her leg around him, he gripped it to steady her and she grabbed him, guiding him to her wet entrance. They moaned in unison as his tip teasingly entered her before pulling back out and starting again. Impatient, Raquel tighten the leg she had around him and pushed him deeper in her. He groaned in response and followed her lead, thrusting into her roughly. He had found just the right angle, was nibbling her neck, and Raquel felt herself getting closer to the edge with every thrust. She pulled his head up and kissed him deeply as she let the hand not holding onto him for support run circles on her clit. Sergio felt her muscles contract around him and the moan that escaped her pushed him over as well and he let himself go with a grunt.

Pulling out of her, Sergio planted lazy kisses on her neck, working his way through her jawline to her lips. A hand against the wall, he rested his forehead against hers and gathered himself for a few seconds, revelling in the feeling of Raquel’s fingers running along his arms and back. He turned the water off and grabbed a towel, wrapping her in it, then wrapped one around his own waist and bent down to kiss her softly. 

“Are you still cold?”

She shook her head, smiling against his lips. He reached for his glasses and put them back on, “I’ll get you something dry to wear.”

“I… I’m not staying though.” She had left her house earlier that evening fully intent on getting laid, but not on staying the night.

“Why?” At her surprised look, he nervously added, “I mean… Your clothes are soaked.”

Raquel looked at the wet pile made up of their clothes. She would most certainly catch her death going home wearing those, and what was more, she couldn’t really come up with any reason why she needed to get home, since Paula was with Alberto. Salva didn’t wait for her to answer but popped out and soon returned with a black tank top and a pair of boxers for her. As she accepted them with a grateful smile, the decision had seemingly been made and she stayed. 

* * *

Sergio woke up after a night he wouldn’t soon forget, to the sound of the shower being turned on. The bed empty, he was surprised Raquel getting up hadn’t woken him up as he wasn’t used to sharing a bed. But come to think of it, he had stirred, only for her to kiss his neck and tell him to go back to sleep before planting another kiss right behind his ear. And he had done as told. 

He hadn’t expected any of this to happen, but the moment Raquel had asked him to take her home, there was nothing he wanted more. That kiss she had laid on him at the bar, chaste as it was, had stirred an undeniable passion in him, one he hadn’t even considered fighting against. He had spent the night meticulously discovering her body and how it reacted to his touch, mentally filing every cause and effect. He had in the early hours of the night discovered one spot he particularly enjoyed. She had been recovering from an orgasm and was presumably quite sensitive when he came across the spot, and nibbling on it had earned him a smack on the head and a stern reprimand to give her a fucking minute already. He had taken great pleasure waking her up in the morning by nibbling at that exact spot, eliciting the most delightful mix of curse words and moaned demands for mercy from her.

He got up, looked around for his clothes and only finding the boxers he had lent Raquel after they’d showered, put them on. He continued his search and was just about to put on his trousers when Raquel came out of the bathroom, wearing her own clothes. 

“Good morning.”

She walked over and stretched on the tip of her toes to kiss him. “Good morning.” She stood back down, pulled at the hem of his boxers and smiled wickedly, “Aren’t these mine?”

Her smell intoxicating, Sergio cleared his throat. “Yours?”

She ran her fingers through her hair and headed towards the kitchen sink. “Yes, mine. I wore them last night.”

“And that makes them yours?”

“Yes.”

“Even though you didn’t wear them for very long.”

“Well as I recall my not wearing them for long was all your doing.”

“And how exactly is that relevant?”

Raquel shrugged as she filled a glass with water and took a few sips.

He put on his trousers and followed her towards the kitchen. “Coffee?” She nodded in response and he continued as he set out preparing the beverage. “Raquel, I really think you need to take a refresher course on property law. This attitude is quite concerning coming from a police officer.”

Laughing, Raquel waved him off. “I’m not in the petty crimes unit, so it’s fine.”

Sergio held up a finger, “Ah. So you admit it’s a crime.”

“I did no such thing.”

Chuckling, Sergio shook his head. “I guess they just let anyone into the Police Academy these days. The police force really isn’t what it used to be.”

This earned him a slap on the ass and a loud “Hey!” from Raquel, both of which he massively enjoyed. She opened his fridge, finding it close to empty. 

“I’m sorry Raquel, I don’t really have anything to eat. I was going to go get groceries today.”

“That’s fine, I need to head home anyways.” She stretched, “I have about a thousand things to do this weekend. I will take that coffee though.”

Raquel left shortly after getting her coffee, at around noon. She kissed him thoroughly before leaving and after his grin finally died down, Sergio looked around the warehouse, seeing traces of their activities that night. They had knocked over a lamp at some point, which had caused her to laugh and him to mutter he had never been fond of that particular one anyways. The glass she had used was left on the sink, and the tank top she’d borrowed was on the floor next to the bed. He had to remind himself of the purpose of this space. It was a cover, it wasn’t meant to be a love nest. He had it set up in case any suspicions were to arise around him, or his cover story, depending how things evolved. He was a robber, she was a cop, and they weren’t playing a friendly game of cops and robbers. This was real life. While the heist still seemed far away, it was going to become very real, very soon. And now he had slept with the Inspector who was going to be in charge of the heist. 

_How on earth had this happened?_

He smiled in spite of himself, he knew exactly how it had happened. He had been completely taken in by Raquel since he met her, with her challenging him at every turn, laughing at, and with, him, coaxing him far out of his comfort zone without him even realising she was doing it. And then she had reached up and kissed him, and his entire being had instantly reacted. It was as simple as that. One kiss from Raquel Murillo, and he had been done for. While a very small voice deep inside told him to put an end to it, that he was entering dangerous territory, he didn’t erase her number this time.

Raquel got home to her mother preparing lunch. Wearing the same outfit and sauntering in mid-day after her first date in years earned her a pointed look, and she felt like a teenager again as she was told to get changed and come back down for lunch. But Raquel did as told, not quite believing the night she’d just had. Coming back down, she began setting the table for the two of them. She imagined her mother was dying to know what had happened and sure enough, the minute they sat down, the questioning began. 

“So?”

“So what?”

Her mother put her fork down and raised an eyebrow at her, “Sweetheart, please.”

“Mom, I… Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine, fine. But it’s safe to assume you followed my advice?”

“Mom…”

“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m happy for you honey.” She winked, “Maybe you should rest a little after lunch, you look tired. Did you not get a lot of sleep?”

Raquel rolled her eyes, smirking into her glass. “Mom, please.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop. I swear I don’t know what I did to get such a prude daughter.”

Raquel doubted that Salva would’ve concurred with her mother’s description of her as prude. But it was one thing having mind-blowing with a virtual stranger, another one entirely discussing the details of it with one’s mother. But she had been the reason Raquel had even gone on a date with Salva, so she decided to make an effort.

“Fine. No, I did not get a lot of sleep.” Her mother looked at her hopefully and Raquel quickly added, “And that’s all I’ll say.”

Mariví shook her head at her daughter, “Will you see him again?”

Raquel hadn’t thought about it, nor had she and Salva decided anything. They had just enjoyed the time they spent together. Only now did she realise that she had left with the expectation to see him again.

“I hope so.”

Her mother tutted. “Hoping won’t achieve anything honey, you know that. It’s not how you’ve ever lived your life, why start now? If you want to see him again, make it happen. You deserve to have some fun. You’re still young, have a fling!”

Her mother was right, she did deserve to have fun. A fling somehow seemed insufficient to describe the time she and Salva had just spent together, but that was probably what she needed. A fling. Something casual, light, expectation-free. Easy. She was blissfully unaware of the profound impact they would have on each other’s lives. Years later Raquel would think back to this moment, and be amazed at the fact that she had once thought the man she’d just met was someone she could ever have a simple, un-complicated non-relationship with. 

* * *

They began seeing each other regularly. Raquel constantly tried to convince herself that it was casual, that she was having a well-deserved fling, but the intimacy they shared when they were together told her otherwise. Every time they parted, she left telling herself that the next time she wouldn’t get swept up in it, swept up in him. That she would keep it light, as she was nowhere near ready to plunge herself into an actual relationship, having just gotten out of an incredibly destructive one. 

As for Sergio, he vacillated between telling himself he kept seeing Raquel because it was the only logical thing to do for the plan, to deciding to end things after another encounter left him consumed by her. He knew the fact that he hadn’t told his brother about his chance encounter with the Inspector meant… something, but he resolutely shoved those thoughts aside and focused on finalising the planning of the heist, approaching the planning and seeing Raquel as two entirely separate entities. Well, almost. 

He couldn’t help himself from picking her brain about her work, both for the plan, but also because he, Sergio, was genuinely interested in what she had to say. The lines were incredibly blurry though, he realised that, and everything she shared with him did go into his planning once they parted. Raquel had invaluable insight into police workings, he couldn’t simply ignore the information she handed him. But she also presented him with a view from the individual cop’s point of view, and he was both fascinated and disturbed at the humanising effect it had on his view of the people representing the system he was about to fight. She was making it significantly harder for him to see them, and particularly her, as just pawns. 

Regardless of their respective convictions and mindsets, Raquel and Sergio inevitably found themselves back in each other’s arms and neither seemed willing, or able, to stay away from the other. 

About two months into their yet to be defined relationship though, Raquel started seeing Salva in a new light. She was at work, with a date planned with him that evening, and walked into a conversation between Ángel and Diego, a detective from the fraud unit, in the breakroom.

“I don’t know how this guy does it, but he manages to get these women to set aside all logical thinking.”

Getting a cup of tea Raquel asked Diego, “What are you talking about?”

“You remember that con artist case I was working on about two years back?”

“Mmm… The one where he was uneducated and dirt poor but managed to con his way into a top-level job in… Finance, was it?”

“Right, that’s the one.”

“Didn’t he get engaged to the CEO’s daughter as well?”

“He did yeah… Well he seems to be at it again.”

“I suppose that isn’t surprising. After all, he got away with it and it’s hardly the kind of crime you only commit once. You have to support that golden lifestyle you’ve gotten accustomed to.”

“I agree. I’m just fascinated by how it works, you know? This time he didn’t have time to get engage before someone from his previous scam recognised him and called the police, but he was in a relationship with one of the daughters of a board member of a multi-million Euro communications company.”

Raquel huffed, “He has a type.”

“He does indeed. But I’ve interviewed both these women, and I just can’t get it to make sense.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, they’re both smart and highly educated women. Yet they never, not once, questioned his story, even though it was full of holes. He didn’t have any family, no real friends, he never took them to his house, always had answers but quite often deflected attention away from himself. No one, including the women he seduced, dug any deeper. They just accepted everything he said at face value. I mean if you took one look at his social media profile, you’d see quite quickly it all seemed made up. How does he continuously manage to convince people around him not to question a single detail of his life?”

Ángel shrugged, “People believe what they want to believe.”

Hearing Diego describe the con artist’s mode of operation, an uneasy feeling had begun creeping through Raquel, and Ángel’s words hit her like a ton of bricks. _People believe what they want to believe._

“I know, it’s just still mind-boggling. And in the interviews they…” 

The discussion was reduced to background noise as Ángel’s voice played over and over again in her head, _People believe what they want to believe._ Why did this affect her so much? It’s what she’d done with Alberto but surely Salva wasn’t…

“He had explanations for it all but… Raquel, are you ok?”

“Hm?” Raquel blinked, shaking herself out of her disbelief. Not here, not in front of Ángel and another detective she didn’t know that well. “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I should get back to work.” Picking up her cup, she tried her best to appear natural. “Good luck with this case, Diego.”

She rushed to her office, shutting the door behind her and taking a few deep breaths. She wasn’t going to be rash about this, she needed to think. First, she needed to check what public information was available on Salva. Not wanting to use her work computer for that purpose, she got her private phone out and googled him. _Nothing_. In fact, after a bit of digging, the only thing she could find on him was an address, that of the warehouse she’d become intimately familiar with in the past two months, and a company registered to that address, his cider business. 

Well, if she couldn’t find anything on him online, she was going to have use what she did know about him. 

Thinking back two the two months since they met, something about Salva did seem to be off. He was too perfect, always attentive, always saying the things she craved to hear. His warehouse bore no trace of any personal items and he was evasive about certain things, often deflecting the attention back to her after offering up vague answers to her questions, and he seemed _very_ interested in her. While part of her was flattered by the attention, she was not only a cop with a degree in psychology, but had also recently come out of an abusive relationship, and to say that she had trust issues was the understatement of the century. 

What the hell was she going to do? 

She got a note pad out and began listing things that were out of the ordinary. He never spoke of any friends, there were no photos whatsoever in his warehouse, not even from his childhood, his brother, or the parents he’d told her he’d lost many years earlier. The morning after they’d first slept together, when he had had no idea she would spend the night, his fridge had been completely empty. He never seemed to tire of hearing about her work, and often asked for clarifying information or further details. When she was done, Raquel stared at the list. _Shit._

Every single item she noted was vague and on its own wouldn’t have meant anything but put together, they painted a troubling picture.

She was leaning back in her chair, miles away, when she was brought back by a knock, soon followed by Ángel’s head popping in. “Raquel, we have that meeting now.”

“Oh shit, right, I forgot.” She closed her notepad, shoved it into her desk drawer, locked it, and followed Ángel out. 

Much to her dismay, the meeting about what had gone right, wrong, and what they could’ve handled better in a recent case, was a never ending one. All the departments involved were eager to get their share of the credit, but none of the blame, and they all needed time to vent their opinions. Three hours later they had finally wrapped, and Raquel needed to head straight to her date with Salva. They hadn’t seen each other in a few days, so she had suggested they get take-out and have dinner at his warehouse. It had been a suggestion driven by her libido and had seemed like a great idea at the time, but it was one she was most definitely kicking herself for now. She was _not_ going to have sex with him until she’d figured out what the hell was going on.

With no time to plan how she was going to play the evening, Raquel decided to approach it as she would any other operation: observe, and get the suspect to talk. 

Waiting for Raquel, Sergio reflected on the past two months. He had enjoyed getting to know her, and to indulge in having a life for once. He’d been planning this heist for so long, setting his own life aside, that the novelty of it pushed aside any feeling of guilt that would regularly creep up on him. He didn’t want to lie to her, but at this point the persona of Salva barely felt like lying anymore, he’d been working and living with it for so long. And the essence of Salva was still him. All the things that mattered were still him, he still reacted to things he and Raquel did, to the conversations they had, as himself. They were still getting to know each other, and spoke more of general matters than truly personal ones, though in moments of intimacy he felt they were both fully open to one another in a way he’d never experienced before. He was genuinely at ease with her, and he wasn’t someone who ever felt at ease with anyone but his brother. That’s not to say she didn’t make him uncomfortable, but that was usually by choice, as she seemed to take particular pleasure in making him squirm under her gaze.

Deep in thought, he didn’t notice her approaching until her hand was on his arm and he turned around. “Hi”, he leaned in to kiss her, and noted she unusually offered him her cheek. “How are you?”

She squinted up at him, the sun in her eyes, “Good, fine. How about you?”

He brushed a stray hair from her face, enjoying the way the setting sun made her skin glow. “Better now.”

“I’m… Uuhm…” He smiled at her so earnestly Raquel felt a pang of regret at suspecting this man of being anything but what he had shown himself as in the past two months: a shy, somewhat awkward, kind man, who was surprisingly neither shy nor awkward in bed, quite far from it. She could be wrong, he could be exactly who he said he was. They’d only known each other for two months after all, they’d barely even grazed the surface. But she couldn’t ignore her intuition, let her feelings cloud her judgement. She wouldn’t. Not this time, not after Alberto.

She steadied herself. “I know I suggested we go to your place for dinner, but I could really do with some fresh air and I’m not that hungry. Do you mind if we just buy something small and stay outside?”

“No, no, not at all. Let’s go.”

They chatted about everything and nothing while walking, with Raquel being careful not to start interrogating him and making sure to keeping a physical distance. She was too antsy about the possibility of him lying to let him be close to her, though she usually craved his touch. She tried to get him to talk to her about what he’d been up to in the days since they’d last met, but he merely told he’d focused on his business plan and hadn’t seen the days pass, then changed the subject. They’d gotten sandwiches and had sat down on a bench to eat, when Sergio turned to her.

“Is anything the matter?”

“No, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you just seem…” _Distant._ “Preoccupied.”

“Oh. It’s work. We had a meeting wrapping up a recent case and it was a bit of a shit show. And first thing Monday I’ll have the great pleasure of compiling the final report based on three hours of excuses, accusations and inter-departmental squabble.”

“Sounds like well-coordinated police work.”

Raquel snorted, “I swear it’s like trying to control children on a playground at times.”

“How so?”

How the hell had he so casually gotten her to talk about her work? “I’d rather not think about work… How was your sandwich?”

If Salva was disappointed or taken aback by her changing the subject, he didn’t let on in the least. 

“It’s good. You want to try it?”

She didn’t want to try it, didn’t want to come even close to enjoying the evening. But she couldn’t let him get suspicious, especially as he had already noticed that she was distracted. So she nodded, and took a bite when he held up his sandwich to her.

“Mmm, that is good, thank you.” She tilted her vegan sandwich towards him, “Do you want to try mine?”

Looking at her offering, he scrunched his nose, “I would really rather not.”

Raquel laughed. _Shit_. She was getting comfortable. “You’re saying I have bad taste?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Raquel.” He took another bite, beaming at her. He leaned forward and pecked her on the lips before she had the time to react and pull back or stop him. She eyed him in wonder, licked her lips, tasting his sandwich on them, and returned her attention to her own food. Could she have been mistaken? If not, he was incredibly good at this. Much better than she was. And it scared the hell out of her.

They finished their food in comfortable silence, and Sergio nudged her with his shoulder, “Should we take a walk?”

Needing to keep him talking, to find out whether she was being paranoid or should listen to her gut feeling, Raquel nodded and took his outstretch hand, letting him pull her up. He brought it to his face, kissed it, then held on to it as they started walking. It was far too intimate a gesture, and she couldn’t bear it. If he was in fact lying to her, possibly using her, then these moments were just plain cruel. She let go of his hand with a smile and stroked his back to let him know that nothing was wrong, then put her hands in her pockets.

“How was your day, Salva?” She needed something, anything more than simply a gut feeling telling her that something was off, way off. 

“Hm? Oh, it was fine thanks. Like I said, I’ve been focused on reviewing my business plan,” he gestured to her with a small smile, “like that magic eight ball of yours suggested.”

“Ah, right.” She waited for him to continue but of course he didn’t. _Diversion. And expertly executed._ But whether or not he was doing it on purpose, she wouldn’t have it, not this time. “And?”

“And?”

“That’s it, that’s all that happened?”

“Well… Yes. I was working.” He caught her raised eyebrow and continued. “I’ve been reviewing my swot analysis all week. Strengths, weaknesses…”

Impatient, she filled in, “Opportunities and threats. Yes, I know.”

“Right. Well, I need to undertake one for every possible party involved; contractor, sub-contractors… You name it.”

“Seems like a lot of work, can’t you do one general one instead?”

“I could, and it would probably be sufficient, but…”

“Probably is not enough?” He shook his head. “The devil is in the details.”

“Exactly.”

“So you’ve been at it all week?”

“I have.”

“And only that.”

“Basically yes. I mean I do eat and sleep.”

She laughed, “I should hope so… Don’t you ever need to take a step back? Get some new perspectives? Clear your head?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do I mean? Really?” She looked at him, surprised that he genuinely seemed to not understand. “Well. Don’t you ever have a nice evening out with your friends, talk about things other than work, maybe share some of your business plan with them to get some input…”

He cut her off more briskly than she was used to, “I don’t share my plan with anyone.”

She’d hit a nerve. Something about his business or future associates made him nervous. _Interesting._

“Ok. So just to have fun then, a nice evening out. To relax?” 

Sergio was getting uncomfortable. He didn’t like to be reminded that he was socially rather inept and that he didn’t share the same need for human interaction as most people. And he honestly didn’t want Raquel to think less of him for his lack of a social life. He’d been teased for it most of his life and while he had accepted that he was an introvert, he didn’t want _her_ to think there was anything wrong with him. This wasn’t the time to reflect on why he cared so much what she thought though, as she was waiting for him to answer.

“Salva?”

“I don’t really have that many friends in Madrid to be honest.”

“Oh, I see.”

He had answers for everything. Sound, reasonable, credible answers for it all. And he was consistent in everything he said. Like this need for planning; he’d told her about it the first time they met.

“And well, I have nice evenings with you. Fun and relaxing.”

She smiled, “Nice, fun and relaxing. Just what every woman likes to hear.” Realising they had walked to his building, she quickly added. “Thank you for tonight Salva, but I’m really tired and am going to head home. It’s been a long week.”

She could tell he was trying to hide his disappointment as he nodded. Wishing him good night she aimed for his cheek, but he caught her lips. His hands came up to frame her face, he nibbled at her lower lip and teased her with his tongue, and she melted against him. Powerless to fight the desire between them, Raquel hummed into the kiss, and the smile she felt forming on his lips shattered her resolve to keep him at arm’s length. He held her face close when he pulled back and smiled, eyes shining.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

She shook her head, his smile grew wider and she let him lead her inside.


	2. Truths, lies, and everything in between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read this when only the first chapter was up, I'm afraid this isn't really a new chapter but rather the original chapter one has been expanded on and split into two chapters. Something was eating me about it and one comment from a reader made the pieces fall into place, and I couldn't leave it.
> 
> So sorry about this, I swear I won't make a habit of it!!
> 
> Just FYI, I intended to post the next chapter Sunday a week from now, and I am still on-track to do this. 
> 
> Again, I'm really sorry and I hope you'll enjoy the added parts in both chapters aimed to give the story a bit more depth.

_“Now Paula. Like you said, you were escorted to Spain by the police. From what we understand, you presented yourself at the Spanish Embassy in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, just a few days ago, is that correct?”_

_“Yes, it is.”_

_“How come you sought out the Embassy?”_

_“Because I wanted to come home.”_

_“Were you in any trouble, or danger?”_

_“What?”_

_“Did anything make you think that you were in way at risk before deciding to go to the Embassy? Was that a part of the reason you went to Kuala Lumpur?”_

_“Which question should I answer?”_

_“Paula…”_

_“No, no. It’s fine Alberto. She’s right. I should only ask one question at the time. Basic interrogation technique. Did your mother teach you that?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Let me rephrase my question. What I’d like to know, is whether anything happened that made you decide to seek out the Embassy, anything to make you think you were in danger?”_

_“No.”_

_“Was your mother, or Mr. Marquina?”_

_“In any danger?”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“Not as far as I know.”_

_“Would they have told you if they were?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“I see… So, you wanted to come home.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“How come?”_

_“How come?”_

_“Yes, why is it that you wanted to come back to Spain?”_

_“What do you mean, I just did. I wanted to see my dad.”_

_“Ok. Did you ever talk to your mother, or Mr. Marquina, about the possibility of returning to Spain?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“And what did they say?”_

_“That is was impossible.”_

_“Did they tell you why?”_

_“I don’t understand… You already asked me about this. They’re wanted for kidnapping me. Obviously they can’t come back to Spain.”_

_“But you still wanted to come.”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Did it cause an argument?”_

_“You could say that, yes.”_

_“I can imagine… And was it a difficult decision for you, to finally come?”_

_“What do you think?”_

_“Paula…”_

_“It’s fine Alberto. I think we should take a small break, stretch our legs, get something to drink. How does that sound to you Paula?”_

_“Can’t we be done? Dad, can we just go?”_

_“Not quite yet honey, I think the Inspector Gonzáles has a few more questions for you, right?”_

_“Yes, I’d really like to understand how you’ve been these past nine years, to make sure nothing’s happened to you. If that’s alright with you Paula.”_

_“Ok. Fine.”_

_“Good, let’s meet back here in ten minutes then.”_

### 

_**MADRID, one year, ten months before the heist at the Royal Mint** _

Raquel blinked, slightly disoriented. The room was dark, but she felt rested and figured that it must be morning. She was lying on her back and had an arm draped around her midriff. _Salva._ She smiled and her hand automatically went up to caress his arm, but the memories of the previous day washed over her and she stopped herself just as she was about to touch him. 

She looked over to him. He was lying on his stomach with his face turned away from her and she fought the urge to run her hand through his hair. She knew exactly where such a gesture would lead, and she had no idea who, or what, this man was. She slipped out from under his arm carefully, not wanting to wake him, gathered her clothes and tip-toed over to the bathroom. She got dressed, splashed some water on her face, stared at her own reflection, hoping in vain to find answers there, and walked back out. Any hope that she could get out of the warehouse without having to face Salva was dashed as she found him sitting in bed, rubbing his eyes, when she came back out.

He reached for his glasses, put them on, and looked at her with the most irresistible blend of sleep, disbelief and contentment, with a dash of shyness thrown in for good measure. He always looked at her that way in the mornings, like he couldn’t quite believe she was there. Up until yesterday she had revelled in it but now, it was a painful reminder that perhaps that look wasn’t as genuine as she’d thought. 

“Good morning.”

Regardless of her conflicting emotions, she didn’t need to force a smile as she answered him, “Good morning.”

“How did you sleep?” 

“Really well actually.” She had no idea how she’d been able to sleep so soundly in his arms, with all the doubts swirling around in her head. But he had spooned her, held her close, breathed her in and before she knew it, she was asleep and hadn’t woken up until morning broke.

Salva got up, took a few steps over to where she was gathering her things and put an arm around her waist. He pulled her closer and planted a kiss on her temple. “You’re leaving?”

She thought she detected a hint of disappointment in his voice but as far as she knew, every single emotion he displayed when they were together was calculated. “I am, yes. Sorry.” She moved away from him and put her shoes on. “I have to head into work and finish up that report, I don’t think it can wait until Monday. And I want to use the weekend that Paula is with Alberto to get some things done in the house.”

Her shoes on, she looked up at him and couldn’t resist kissing him, “Thank you for last night.”

He grinned, “It was most certainly my pleasure.”

She laughed and he kissed her again before she headed out, releasing a breath as the door closed behind her. 

Determined to get to the bottom of what he was really up to, Raquel headed into work. Once in her office she got the notepad out and added her observations from the previous night and morning. Now that the thought that there was more to Salva than he led on had taken root in her mind, it had become painfully evident that he was interested in more than simply her company or body, regardless of how good the sex was. And it was good. 

Eyeing her notes, she figured she had three options. One, she could just stop seeing him. Two, she could keep seeing him and ignore her hunch, writing it off to her trust issues. Three, she could hand his name over to her colleagues in the fraud unit to look into. She should go for option one or three, she knew she should; they were the reasonable choices. But this was personal. Salva had been playing her, of that she was certain. And she had willingly let herself be played; needing the distraction, wanting to explore the unexpected connection she had with him. So she settled on option number four, the irrational one, yet the one that her gut told her was the way to go. 

She was going to keep seeing him, and play him the way he was playing her. 

It was too soon to make any sense of her observations but Raquel knew that eventually, a pattern was bound to emerge and she would then be able to start unravelling whatever he was hiding. She was going to have to bide her time until then, and be careful not to make him suspicious. For that to happen she was going to maintain a relationship with him. The thought made her slightly uncomfortable, but if the previous night was any indication, it wouldn’t be a problem given how drawn she still was to him. She briefly wondered if she chose this way forward specifically so she could continue seeing him, but reached the conclusion that it was irrelevant. She wanted to know what the hell he was after, and she was going to find out. And there was no reason why she shouldn’t continue enjoying his company and the sex, they were not a means to an end, simply a fact of their relationship. She could keep the two things separate; she was used to compartmentalising when she negotiated. She just needed to be careful or there was a good chance she’d end up hurt.

Knowing she couldn’t do anything more until she saw him next, Raquel closed her notebook. She didn’t want it hanging around the office where someone might come across it, but she would need it to keep track of him; to note the times he could, or couldn’t meet up, if he ever appeared stressed, if he ever had to cut their time together short for unexpected reasons. She put it in her bag, then turned her attention to that blasted report she needed to get off her to-do-list once and for all. 

* * *

One month later, Raquel had made a few observations about Salva. They would naturally talk quite a bit about social, economic and legal injustices, but jotting down her notes one night, it occurred to Raquel that it seemed like he was attempting to gauge where she stood. To see whether she thought the authorities had a responsibility for marginalised persons and groups turning to crime. She noticed how far too interested he was in police protocols and the specifics of her work as a negotiator. Particularly what would make her, or her colleagues, deviate from protocol. She became increasingly convinced that he had approached her because of her work. Meaning he either had, or was about to, commit a crime. Or both. 

He remained a riddle though, and she struggled reconciling the man she suspected he was, with the way he was when they were together: thoughtful, affectionate, attentive. One evening after they’d gone out for dinner, she found a toothbrush meant for her in the bathroom, along with the face cleanser and moisturiser she would bring with her whenever she thought she might spend the night. She had looked at him questioningly and he had just shrugged in response, as if the gesture had been the most natural thing in the world. And the boxers and tank top she’d borrowed that first night were always clean and waiting for her, first on a chair next to the bed and soon, a few weeks in, in one of his drawers. Always in the same corner. It made her feel both used and cared for all at once, and the only way she could keep going was by truly being in the moment when she was with him. Paying attention, but setting her worries aside, leaving the analysis for after they’d parted.

They would usually meet either at his warehouse, or at a bar or restaurant. She noted that he tended to take her out of his neighbourhood when they went out, but he didn’t seem nervous when they walked back, hand in hand. She deduced that he rather avoided being seen with her in his neighbourhood, but that it wasn’t something that needed to be avoided at all costs. Thus, what he feared wasn’t that they run into someone he knew when they were together. So any associates he might have either knew of her, and she was not likely to know or recognise them, or they didn’t frequent his neighbourhood. Or he didn’t have any associates and worked alone, which was a real possibility given Salva’s personality, but unlikely if he was planning something big.

Two months into suspecting him, Raquel concluded that the warehouse that he took her to and where they had spent numerous nights giving into their undeniable attraction to one another, the one where he was supposedly starting a cider business, was in all likelihood not his actual place of residence. She wanted to search it for clues, and had decided to come over to do just that a Tuesday after work. The moment he let her in though, he picked her up, pinned her against the wall and took her roughly on the spot, much to her surprise, and unexpected pleasure. 

He lowered her back down on slightly wobbly legs and she caressed his face before moving into the open space where she plopped down on the sofa, glowing and beyond satisfied.

“Well, you fucked the stress right out of me.” She wasn’t lying. He really had, and she momentarily forgot the reason she had decided to come over.

Salva laughed heartily and came to sit next to her, putting his arm around her, and planting a kiss in her hair. “I’m glad. I've been thinking of you all day.”

"Is that so?"

He hummed in response and they sat in silence, recovering, and Raquel allowed herself to revel in post-coital bliss, and burrowed into his warm side. She eventually leaned forward and picked up the book that was on the coffee table, then settled back into him. “You’re reading the classics?”

“Re-reading. I hadn’t read Animal Farm in years, since school. I figured it was time.”

“And?”

“It’s a different read as an adult.”

Raquel looked at him in mock shock, “Are you telling me you haven’t always been the serious intellectual you are today? Brooding over the state of the world and what not? That you were one day a mere mortal like the rest of us?”

She felt his chest move as he chuckled, “I do not brood Raquel.”

“You don’t.”

“No, I ponder. There’s a significant difference.”

She huffed, “If you say so.” Raquel saw an opportunity to get him talking about his youth, something he rarely did, and seized it, wanting to keep him talking. “I can’t imagine you as a teenager though, all those hormones raging, fighting against your logical and oh so rational self.”

“You can’t?”

She shook her head. “Were you girl crazy?”

“Were you boy crazy?”

He was deflecting again, but it wasn’t going to work. She handed him the book and poked him in the chest. “We weren’t talking about me.”

Several seconds passed before he answered, “I suppose I was like most teenage boys.”

“You suppose you were...” 

Sergio noticed Raquel was getting frustrated at his vague answers, but he wasn’t used to talking about his childhood and youth to anyone. “I’m not trying to be difficult Raquel… I just. I’m not used to talking about myself this way, to think about what I was like.”

Now that she believed.

He continued, “I was very sick growing up and I suppose I created my own world in my mind. I was surrounded by books and well, they became my refuge. So it’s not that I didn’t think about girls, or wanted to live a normal life, it’s just…”

Well, she certainly felt like an asshole now. Maybe not everything he told her was a lie, and maybe some things he didn’t talk about simply because he didn’t know how to. Maybe, just maybe, not everything was a calculated move on his part. 

She kissed his shirt, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He squeezed her tighter to let her know it was fine, and Raquel wondered if he’d be quite as understanding if he knew the reason behind her question. But she wasn’t about to let guilt cloud her judgement, she had things to do. “Do you have any food? And wine?” 

He usually didn’t, and Raquel was hoping to get him out of the warehouse to give her an opportunity to properly check it out.

“No. What would you like.”

“I would like…”, she shifted her head into his chest as she thought, then looked up at him, “A salad, tortilla, and red wine.”

“Ok. I’ll head to the shop.”

“Do you mind if I stay here? I’ve been _dying_ to re-read Animal Farm and I’m also quite soar from… Well, you.”

Sergio laughed as he got up, then leaned down and kissed her, “If you’re too lazy to go, you can just say so, you know.”

“Alright. I’m too lazy to go, and I’m in the mood to be pampered.”

He was putting on his shoes and jacket, “Then pampered you shall be.”

Raquel laid down on the sofa and opened Animal Farm, “Good.”

She heard footsteps approaching and a finger soon lowered the book. He was sporting a grin as he leaned in to kiss her once, twice, three time. Letting the book slide to the floor, Raquel’s hands came to frame his face and she pulled him down onto her, allowing the sensation of his weight on her ease her worries and doubts. They continued exchanging small kisses, and he eventually moved down to her neck before settling there, laying half over her with one arm draped around her, hand tucked in between her and the sofa, keeping her firmly in place. Raquel brought up the arm he was lying on to play with his hair.

In this moment of intimacy which he could only describe as pure bliss, Sergio was overcome with an extreme sense of guilt. He was lying in Raquel’s arms, letting the feel of her fingers in his hair and running over his arm wash over him. For the past four months she had let him lie in her arms, have sex with her, laugh with her, but she had no idea who he was, or that he was lying to her. What was worse, he still had no idea what to do about their relationship as the date of the heist steadily crept closer and closer. He sighed, planted a kiss on her neck, and regretfully left her arms.

Raquel watched Sergio leave with a mix of regret and anticipation. She had genuinely enjoyed the time they had just shared and a part of her would have been perfectly content staying in it for rest of the night. But she did have things to do. She waited a few minutes to make sure he didn’t come back, in case he’d forgotten something. Calculating it should take him at least 15 minutes to get to the shop, buy the groceries and make it back, Raquel put an alarm on her phone for 10 minutes and got to work. 

She went through his things methodically, knowing she would never manage to rummage through everything in merely ten minutes, and would have to continue another time. She started with what he referred to as his “office space”, which Raquel had once pointed out was a very generous term for what was essentially a desk and a chair stuffed in a corner. Opening the drawers, Raquel found nothing. No knick-knacks that gave any indication of who the owner might be, no photos, no bills older than one year. She knew that was the amount of time that he’d had the space, but most people had evidence of their lives going back further than one year among their paperwork. But not Salva. Her alarm went off, Raquel cursed, and quickly put back the pile of papers she was going through, and looked around the space to make certain she’d left no trace of her search. 

She was talking to Paula when he returned and he gave her space with a small smile. The girl had called from her father’s house to tell her about her day, and it soothed Raquel’s soul to hear her voice. She hated the way the separation was affecting her little girl, but she hated having to hand her over to Alberto even more. She was constantly worried when Paula was with her father, though she tried to tell herself that a man who mistreated his wife wasn’t necessarily a man who would mistreat his children. He loved Paula, she knew that. But he had loved her too once, and that hadn’t stop him. Needing to keep the anxiety at bay, she joined Salva, who was preparing their dinner, when she hung up. He did in fact pamper her that evening and Raquel let him. She needed to be distracted, and to feel cared for. 

* * *

She had assumed he would slip sooner or later but after having seen each other for five months, with her suspecting him for three, he still hadn’t given anything away and Raquel was truly intrigued. He was good. Very, good. Frighteningly good.

As a police officer, Raquel told herself it was her duty to find out what exactly this man was planning, but she was also curious as to what he was actually after and, much to her both surprise and annoyance found herself continuing to enjoy his company, as well as the sex. She felt like her body had been awaken from years of slumber and she couldn’t get enough of him. She was quite frankly put, constantly horny, and the fact that she knew he was lying to her did nothing to change that. 

Getting to know Salva, or whichever side of him he chose to show her, Raquel noted that he was more than merely smart, that he was quite possibly brilliant. If she didn’t play her cards right, she had no doubt he would catch on to the fact that she was on to him. She still didn’t run his alias, for she was convinced that the persona of Salvador Martín was just that, through the police registry as she had no doubt it would hold up to a basic search. He wouldn’t be so sloppy as to create a weak alias. And she didn’t want to run a deeper search on him until she had a better idea of what she was up against. Whatever he was planning or wanted from her, his intelligence and behaviour towards her as their relationship evolved convinced her that it was going to be big. 

On an intellectual plane she was intrigued, but she hated that he continued lying to her so seamlessly.

But what about her? She was arguably doing the same to him as she was convinced he was doing to her: she laughed with him, fucked him, held him close, caressed his face fondly and smiled warmly and genuinely at him, all while mentally noting every question he asked and every suggestion of increased interest in specific areas of her work. Always waiting for him to slip up. 

More often than she would care to admit though, she let herself get swept up in the moments they shared, in the sincerity that she swore she could see in his eyes, hear in his voice. Afterwards she’d always leave confused, wondering whether this man was nothing more than a master manipulator, or whether parts of their time together was genuine. Realising she was in fact falling for him, knowing full well he wasn’t who he claimed to be, she decided five months after meeting him that enough was enough, and that she was going to get some answers.

She set it all up for their next date. He was already seated waiting for her when she arrived at the restaurant and she wrote off the fluttering sensation seeing him caused as nerves for what was about to come. His face lit up as he saw her and he got up to great her. He kissed her, held her close for a few seconds and Raquel’s breath hitched. For those few seconds she desperately wanted to believe that she was merely being paranoid, that what was happening between them was as real to him as it was to her, that he really was starting a cider business. She put a hand on his chest and attempted to focus on her breathing. When she looked up to catch his shy smile and those kind eyes that fully focused on her, something broke in her that she thought had long ago been broken by Alberto, but evidently must have healed at some point in the past five months. It was only then that she realised just how hard she was falling for this man and just how deep it cut to know that he was deceiving and using her. And with that, she became more determined to get to the bottom of it. She patted his chest, smiled, and the game was on.

They ordered their drinks and Raquel was mentally filing details about his behaviour and how he claimed to have spent the day. She couldn’t deny she enjoyed this, knowing something he didn’t know. Yes, he had been lying to her for the past five months, but he had no idea it was about to blow up in his face. It was payback time and Raquel allowed herself to have fun with it, to flirt with him, argue with him, taunt him. 

She took a sip of her drink and smirked, “So Salva, when are you going to tell me what you’ve been hiding?”

He choked on his drink and coughed, failing to hide his panic as he looked at her. “What… What do you mean?”

Oh yes, she was most definitely going to enjoy this. “You know exactly what I mean.”

His eyes darted from left to right and his arms had come down to his sides.

Raquel laughed, “Your meeting! With the possible investor?”

He chuckled and appeared relieved, but she had clearly rattled him and couldn’t help but push him a bit further. “Jesus Salva, what did you think I meant?”

He flinched but caught himself quicker this time. “I don’t know, but I think I just came face to face with Inspector Murillo, and it made me quite nervous. You must be very good at your job.”

 _Deflecting as always._ But this time it didn’t frustrate her, it amused her to observe his tactics. She took a sip of her drink and stared him down with a smirk, “Oh, I am.”

“I don’t doubt it. I imagine criminals fess up immediately when they come face to face with you.”

“You’d be surprised…” At his unsure appearance, she chuckled and softened her stance, not wanting to make him suspicious. “Now tell me about this investor.”

It was the first time Salva had mentioned a meeting in the time that they had known each other. He’d let her know he would have to go out of town and would be gone for two or three days, and Raquel was convinced he’d met up with an associate for whatever it was he was planning. To be as good a liar as he was, he had to stick close to the truth, so it was likely he told her the truth about the meeting, only lying about the purpose for it. And she was interested to see how he would talk about it now, after the fact.

Her phone rang according to plan at 21:20. She had asked her mother to call at that specific time, giving her an excuse to leave, saying Paula wasn’t feeling well and that she needed to get home. Ever the understanding, sensitive man, Salva told her to go and that he would take care of the bill. She kissed him goodbye, headed out, then stood in the dark across the street, close enough where she could see him, but far enough that he was unlikely to spot her, waiting for him to leave. He left soon after her and as she followed him it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t heading to the warehouse he usually took her to. She trailed him to a two-story, rather worn-down building, close to the street where they’d met, and in the same neighbourhood as the warehouse. She watched him unlock the front door and walk in, and kept her eyes peeled on the windows to see where the lights would be switched on. All the windows in the building with the exception of one were dark, but eventually she caught a stream of light seeping out from the edges of one of the windows on the second floor. 

_He must have boarded it up_. 

She settled herself in a bar across the street, staking out the door. When no one had entered or exited for an hour and a half, she decided to make her move. She knew it was stupid and potentially dangerous, that she had no idea what she might walk into. But she couldn’t call for back-up simply on her conviction that he was hiding something, and was not about to leave without getting answers. She picked the lock to the building entrance, climbed the stairs, deduced that the flat she had identified as his should be the second one on the left and approached the door. She pulled out her gun, took a deep breath, picked the lock, and carefully entered the flat. 

Leaving the restaurant after Raquel left, Sergio couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He had been looking forward to spending the evening, and hopefully night, with her more than he was willing to admit. The time they had been spending together represented an entirely new experience for him, and he couldn’t get enough of listening to her, making her laugh, debating with her, making love to her. But between the disappointment of her leaving, and the way the previous time he’d seen her had made him feel, he decided he would have to end things between them. 

_She had called him earlier that week as she was heading into work in the morning, asking if she should come by with breakfast. He had been out of town to meet with his brother and happily agreed, rushing to the warehouse she knew as his home. Opening the door for her, he instantly took her face in his hands and kissed her hungrily, pulling her in. She yelped in surprise against his lips but quickly answered in kind. Her hands holding two coffees and a bag containing sandwiches, he guided her towards the kitchen table and lifted her onto it. His hand snuck up her shirt and he heard her moan as he pinched her nipple, and the only thing he was aware of in that moment was that her hands were now free of the goods she’d brought and were currently unbuckling his trousers. He hiked up the skirt she was wearing, discovered with a groan that she wasn’t wearing any underwear and, running his fingers over her folds, that she was more than ready for him. He grabbed her ass, pulled her to him and she locked her legs behind him with an anticipating smirk as he began pushing into her. Her hand around his shaft, stroking him with increased pressure, he knew he wouldn’t last long and reached for the spot he’d discovered could make her come undone with just a few well-placed caresses. He made eye contact with her, his smirk now matching her previous one, and revelled in watching her eyes roll back as he rubbed one of his favourite spot. He let himself go the second he felt her contract around him, maintaining pressure on her clit so she could ride out her orgasm._

_Once she stopped shaking and had caught her breath, legs still wrapped around him, Raquel caressed his face with a soft smile. “Good morning.”_

_Chuckling at the fact that those were the first words either of them had spoken, he could only agree. “It is indeed.”_

_She winked at him and planted a peck on his lips. “Well, I’m definitely hungry now.” Untangling from him, she hopped off the table, re-arranged her clothes and handed him one of the coffees she’d brought, before taking a sip of hers._

_He gratefully accepted the coffee and helped himself to a sandwich as he sat down. Raquel sat back on the table and put one foot up on his chair, sneaking it in under his thigh. Sergio absentmindedly caressed her bare leg and for a brief moment, seriously considered telling her the truth about who he was._

Sergio removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes at the memory. No, this simply wouldn’t do. He needed to focus on the heist, and he was pushing his luck by maintaining, and even building, a relationship with her. He was going to end it, he really was. Deep in thought and back at the flat where he actually lived, the one Raquel didn’t know about and where he planned for the heist, he didn’t notice anything was off until the sound of a gun cocking echoed through the room and he felt the cold barrel pushing against his neck. Having no idea what was happening, he reacted on instinct and quickly reached for his own gun that was taped under the chair and spun around. His heart sank as he saw who the intruder was.

“Raquel.”

“Put the gun down.”

He should have known she’d see through him, he should’ve fucking known this couldn’t work.

“Put. The fucking gun. Down.”

Several tense seconds passed with them pointing their guns at each other, breathing loudly, chests heaving. Staring into her eyes, Sergio knew three things to be certain: One, she was not about to back down. Two, she was quite capable of shooting him. And three, there was not a chance in hell that he would shoot her. So, he acquiesced, slowly raising his arms in surrender.

“Ok, ok.”

He put the gun on the floor and carefully kicked it over to her. 

“Raquel.”

“Shut up.” She motioned with her gun, “Move the chair over there and sit down.”

He did as told and she handed him a pair of handcuffs, instructing him to put them on so that she could still see his hands. She then pulled up a chair and sat down at a safe distance opposite him. Grateful for the few moments it bought him, Sergio was trying to come up with what to tell her. His entire life’s work was hanging in the balance and he had no one to blame for it but himself. 

Realising he had no way of getting out of this without acknowledging some of his deceit, Sergio settled on muddling the waters even further, mixing truths with lies, hoping he’d be just convincing enough for her to… To what exactly? In all the times Sergio had thought of the scenario of Raquel realising who he was, he never seemed to be able to come up with any that would turn out well for either of them. He always imagined it occurring during the heist, with the most likely outcome being that he would simply disappear from her life. He’d never been a fan of that particular scenario, but he realised now it would’ve had the added advantage of sparing him the wrath he was currently at the receiving end of.

“So,” her voice steady, she gestured with her hand. “Lovely place you have yourself here.” She smiled sweetly, making Sergio squirm. “Want to tell me about it?”

“Uhm…”, he decided to give his cover story one last try, thinking she couldn’t know much, hoping he could still steer her back. “This is where I stay when I’m not working on the cider. You’ve seen the warehouse, it’s a bit too damp to…”

She laughed bitterly. “The cider? Really? You’re sticking with that? While I admire your commitment, it’s truly not in your best interest to keep lying to me right now.”

Sergio shifted uncomfortably as Raquel stared him down, waiting for him to continue. Or rather, to start again.

“I… I…” Without realising it, his eyes sought hers out for guidance or perhaps some comfort, but he merely met a cold stare and a raised eyebrow. “Raquel. This isn’t my flat, it’s my brother’s. He only recently...”

“Stop lying to me.”

“Raquel, I’m not…”

She shook her head and laughed incredulously as she rose from the chair. “Stop fucking lying to me!”

Raquel had done it again, she’d fucking done it again. She had completely and utterly misjudged a man. Salva’s continuous lies proved that to her. The only thing currently keeping her from breaking down was the pure rage she felt at being played for a fool. She had no idea what the truth was, but this nonsense he was spewing certainly wasn’t it. And if she didn’t get answers she actually believed, she was going to call the police, and even though she had absolutely no proof of anything, she suspected he was rather eager to avoid that.

Sergio took a deep breath. He had hated lying to her over the past five months and the closer they had gotten, the worst it had become. He had tried to be as genuine as he could be with her. He had told her about his father, of his illness as a child, of how awkward he found interacting with others to be. Seeing the anger and distrust in her now, he realised that fact would provide little, if any, comfort to her. He couldn’t do it anymore, and truth be told he suspected lying further to her would only make his currently bad situation worse. To his relief, he was left with little option but to come clean. To tell her the truth and see where the chips might come to fall.

“Alright Raquel. You’re right. The cider is just a front.” 

* * *

Whatever Raquel had imagined he was up to, it was nowhere close to this. She couldn’t believe her ears. This man was actually planning on taking over the Royal Mint, taking hostages, printing his own money, and had any number of contingency plans in place to ensure they would not only succeed, but get away with too. When he finished, she was speechless, her mind reeling, trying to make sense of both his lies and the apparent half-truths he’d been sharing with her since they met. She was almost too stunned and intrigued to be angry. Almost.

“What the fuck…” She got up and paced the room, “What the fuck are you? Who are you? How on earth did you…” She stopped and turned to him as a thought struck her. “How did you know I was going to be there?”

“What?”

“The day we bumped into each other. How did you plan that?”

He shook his head and nudged his glasses. “I didn’t. If we ever were to meet, it was going to be at a bar called the Hanoi.” He gave her a crooked smile, “But you came into my life two years too early.”

She huffed in disbelief.

“It’s true Raquel, I was shocked to see it was you. And then we got along and well…”

“You saw an opportunity to get close to me, and you took it.”

“No, no, it wasn’t like that. I…”

She didn’t let him finish, “How did you see this playing out? We would keep seeing each other and once the heist started I would come home to you, talk about my day and give you the scoop from the police point of view?” Her voice was raising at the thought of how far he had been planning on deceiving her. “Would this happen before, or after, we’d fuck? Hm? And what about afterwards, you were simply going to disappear? Leave me to figure out I’ve been led around by my nose the whole time?”

“Raquel, I don’t know. I swear I don’t. This,” he motioned between the two of them, his hands still handcuffed, “is the only part of the plan that was, is, unaccounted for. It’s the one piece I can’t get to make sense, regardless of how I twist or turn it. I… I didn’t plan for this, I swear I didn’t. We just bumped into each other on the street and I couldn’t… It all happened so quickly and before I knew it, not having you in my life just wasn’t a possibility I could entertain.”

She glared at him, recalling a conversation they’d had on their first real date. “I thought you didn’t act on impulse. Never have, never would?”

“I hadn’t until I met you. I wouldn’t have until I met you.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes, “How very romantic. Apart from the ever so slight detail that you’ve been lying to me this whole time.”

“I have, but what happened between us, what is between us, has never been a lie.” Sergio suddenly realised; she had lied to him as well. She had left the restaurant early that evening, clearly planning on following him. How long had _she_ been playing him? “What about you Raquel?”

She sat down again, “Me?”

“Yes, you. You clearly came to the restaurant tonight knowing exactly what would happen. How long have you been planning this?” She shot him a dirty look, convincing him he was on to something. “How long have you been seeing me, suspecting whatever it is you were suspecting.” She avoided looking at him, and he pressed on. “The other morning, when you came over with breakfast…”

She cut him off briskly, “You’re actually trying to turn this around on me? Fine, have at it. What exactly are you accusing me of?”

That morning represented a sore spot for Raquel. She had woken up craving his touch and couldn’t help but stop by on her way to work. After being thoroughly fucked, she stayed and had breakfast with him. The way he looked at her, combined with the feeling of his fingers running over her bare leg as they ate their breakfast in comfortable silence… It had forced her to face the harsh truth: that he was never going to come clean with her. The realisation hurting more than she’d have expected, it pushed her to decide to take matters into her own hands. And now he had the nerve of throwing that morning in her face, as if she had been playing him.

“Nothing. I don’t know.” He looked at her pleadingly, “But are you telling me you’ve been completely honest with me in the past five months?”

She laughed, “So what… You’re hurt?” Sergio bent his head. “ _You’re_ hurt?!” 

If that was in fact the case, then she wanted to hurt him even more. “You want to know how long I’ve known that you’ve been playing me for a fucking idiot? Hmm? Fine.”

She brought the chair closer to him and sat down, leaning forward to make him look at her, wanting her words to really hit home. “I figured it out three months ago.”

Sergio’s heart dropped at her words. Three months, _three months_. Raquel had been on to him for three months, yet he hadn’t noticed a difference in her behaviour in their time together. Had she been faking everything they had been since then? He had felt so at ease with her that he had begun opening up, he’d shared more about himself with her than he ever had with anyone. All while she had been fishing for information. And now he had spilled his entire plan to her, fuelled by emotions, not rational thinking. A personal relationship; exactly what he knew had no place in his plan. He’d fucked it all up.

“Three months.” She nodded and leaned back in her chair. “You’ve been working me for three months.”

“No. I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell you were up to.”

“And now that you know? Now that you’ve gotten the information you worked so hard to get, what…”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” She shot up from her chair, “The information I worked so hard to get?” She laughed in disbelief, “You son of a bitch.”

“Maybe I am… But we’re evidently not so different you and I, are we?”

Her palm hit his cheek before he had a chance to regret his words. Looking at her, he saw tears in her eyes and knew he’d been mistaken. She wasn’t like him. She hadn’t spent her entire life planning for one major event, living her life solely for that purpose. She had a daughter, a career, a life. Until he met her, he had seen her as merely a pawn, but getting to know her in these past five months he had been forced to see she was anything but. 

His words seemed to have cut deeply, but he couldn’t take them back, it was too late. Rather they set of an argument that lasted two hours, went in circles, vacillated between shouting, intellectual exercises in debating, exasperated pleas, emotional accusations, intellectual accusations, and everything in between. Permeating it all, were Sergio’s attempts at making her accept one thing as true: that he had been sincere in his feelings for her. His assertations were usually met with a glare, a huff, a dirty look, a demand for him to shut the fuck up already, a disbelieving snort. But he also tried to make her truly understand how he viewed his heist: not as a robbery, but as a protest against a broken and skewed system.

Raquel was trying to find her footing amidst the madness that was that night. Salva, or whatever the hell his name was, had entered her life when it was in turmoil. She was only beginning to regain control of her sense of self after years of abuse at the hands of Alberto. As for her professional life, any ability she’d had in her youth to turn a blind eye to the systematic injustices that perpetuated the separation of the rich from the masses had been lost in the last year. While she knew she did important work, she’d been struggling for months to maintain faith in the system she was representing. The way her colleagues treated her, other women both in the force and outside, and other marginalised groups, left her disgusted and conflicted about her role in it. The more she rose in the ranks, the more she was privy to the seedy underbelly of how decisions were made, what crimes were prioritised, and who was left to be sacrificed. And here was this man, using her, lying to her, but claiming he did it for all the right reasons. That while he stood to make a fortune off of it, his plan at its essence represented an act of rebellion.

Raquel rubbed her temples and plopped down on the chair with a loud sigh. Sergio was folded over, hands in his hair, and looked up at the sound. He looked as tired and hopeless about the situation as she felt. He’d spent the better part of the night attempting to convince her that what had happened between them was real, that he’d been powerless to stop it, not for a lack of trying. He had told her with a chuckle that he’d decided about a dozen times he was taking it too far and that he would end it, but that his resolve had weakened every time they met. Recognising her own conflicting emotions in his words, Raquel actually believed him. She was too damned tired to be angry anymore. Instead, her heart ached, she felt like a fool, but God help her, she felt more connected to him than ever, and she believed him.

Raquel shook her head, sighed, and walked over to him. She removed his handcuffs and as she did, he clasped her hands and rose from the chair. She was all out of fight and stared at their joined hands, until he spoke her name so softly it came out as a mere whisper. She tilted her head up, looking into his eyes for what seemed like the first time ever. In them, she could see her own doubts, hope and fatigue reflected and she stopped thinking. She lifted her chin to him and they met in a quiet, desperate kiss. As they parted, her fingers grazed over his lips. 

“What’s your name?”

He kissed her lingering fingers, “Sergio Marquina.”

“Hm.” A small, crooked smile formed on her lips. “Sergio. That actually suits you.”

Lacing his fingers with hers, he led her to bed. As they began slowly undressing each other, covering each exposed part of their bodies with caresses or a kiss, neither cared to analyse the pull they had on one another. All they knew was that they had a few precious hours together, where for the first time, no lies separated them. A few hours before dawn would break, the bubble would burst, and the reality of the absurd situation they were in would necessitate painful decisions neither wanted to face. They had argued for hours, were both exhausted and unwilling to part ways just yet, not ready to make the decision about their relationship they both knew was inevitable.

They had a few hours.


	3. Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A massive thank you to all who have read, left kudos, and especially left comments on this story <3
> 
> And any constructive criticism is very welcome as well!
> 
> Sorry if you've received a thousand notifications about this chapter, AO3 was doing some weird stuff so I had to delete and post again... To those two lovely people who had left comments, I'm so sad I had to do this and they disappeared!!

_”I need to back off a bit Alberto, she’s not ready.”_

_“No, don’t.”_

_“Look, I think she’s been coached on how to answer, or rather, how to not answer. And if that’s the case, it’s far too soon to keep pushing, we won’t get anything out of her. Worse, we might alienate her. She only came back yesterday.”_

_“Sara, this is the best chance of locating either of them that we’ve had in years, she’ll be fine. She came back, that means something.”_

_“I don’t think that… Paula! Good, have a seat. Are you ready to start again?”_

_“Uh-hum.”_

_“Like I said before we took a break, your well-being is our main concern here. I really mean that.”_

_“Ok.”_

_“On that note, you’ve already told us that you’re fine today, but how have you been the past nine years?”_

_“I’ve been fine.”_

_“Just fine?”_

_“Uuhm… I’ve been well? Good?”_

_“Alright, I can see why that would be a tricky question to answer. I mean, how do you sum up nine years in just a few sentences, right?”_

_“Exactly.”_

_“I imagine it’s been ups and downs?”_

_“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”_

_“How about this. How about you tell us about something nice that’s happened in the past nine years? I’m sure your father would love to hear stories about some of the things he’s missed.”_

_“Ok. Like what?”_

_“Anything, a good memory.”_

_“Hmm… I can’t really think of anything.”_

_“Well. We know that you lived in Palawan, in the Philippines, for some time. Did you like it there?”_

_“Yes, it was nice. I liked the beach.”_

### 

_**One year, seven months before the heist at the Royal Mint** _

Waking up in Sergio’s arms, Raquel was trying to grasp the situation she was in. How on earth was she still there, close to Sergio, knowing what she knew? But it was undeniable, she absurdly enough felt safe right there, enveloped in his arms. They’d spent the night alternating between arguing, debating and twisting each other’s words only to cap it off by having sex, and she was equal parts exhausted and confused. 

She’d fairly recently gotten out of a long relationship, an abusive one at that, and knew she was in no state to throw herself into a new one. She needed time to heal, to figure out where she stood on her own. And whatever was happening with Sergio was not the way to start a stable relationship. He’d lied to her, she’d lied to him, they’d used each other, and he was set to disappear off the face of the earth in less than two years’ time. 

Nonetheless, she was intrigued by this heist of his, and couldn’t deny its purpose. 

They had both argued their stands until they were blue. Her, that he was committing a crime, a violent crime no less, and that in a peaceful, albeit imperfect, democracy, such acts quite literally ruined it for everyone. He on the other hand had argued that the current system was broken beyond repair, that it was set up to continue enriching the rich while keeping the poorest down, and the majority silent. He maintained that a revolution was needed, and that this wake-up call had been a long time coming. 

Mind reeling, she reluctantly untangled herself from Sergio and got up, slipping on her clothes. She heard him stir behind her and turned, catching his tired, dishevelled, and slightly puzzled appearance. It made her want to crawl right back into bed with him and continue ignoring the reality of their lives but alas, she knew that wasn’t an option and shrugged, smiling sadly. 

The sight of Raquel forced Sergio to realise that the bubble had finally and irreversibly burst. Whatever they had been was over, but for some inexplicable reason she was still there. She had heard him out, challenged him on every argument he made and had scoffed at the suggestion he was planning a heist for the greater good. Her exact words, dripping with sarcasm, had been, “Oh, so you’re a modern Robin fucking Hood, are you?” 

But she hadn’t called the police, and she had stayed. The big question was, what would happen now? Getting dressed, Sergio joined her in the kitchen where she was preparing coffee, entering just as she let out a loud sigh and ran a hand through her hair. He sat down.

“So…” He started and she turned, looking at him tiredly, hands on the counter she was leaning back against. “Now what?”

She shook her head, “Hell if I knew.”

Part of her wished she didn’t know what she knew, that she could continue to live in the blissful ignorance of their first two months together. But that wasn’t an option, and it wasn’t in her nature. And as a consequence here she was, in a predicament for which there was no real solution. 

She couldn’t simply part ways with him and let him carry on with his plan, to see if she’d end up in charge of stopping him or not. She couldn’t keep sleeping with him and pretend like she didn’t know what he was up to, any more than she could keep sleeping with him acknowledging what he was up to. How would that even work? They would go on dates, she would ask him how his day was, and he would tell her good, that things were moving forward, and she wouldn’t ask for more details, then they would have sex? Then he would launch the attack on the Royal Mint and she would… What exactly?

It was absurd. Everything about this situation was absolutely fucking absurd.

She was hurt, she felt used, she didn’t trust him, and she was not about to set herself up for failure. Whatever had been growing between them had been doomed from the start. He’d probably known it, and now she knew it too. She glanced over to Sergio, hoping against hope that he would somehow stop her, give her that one sign that she didn’t know she was looking for, longing for. The sign that would make all the hurt, pain, and feeling of betrayal from the past three months magically disappear. But he considered her with regret and sorrow, and she felt as though the wind had been knocked of her with the realisation that they truly were over.

Raquel seemed lost in thought, eyes trailed on him. He would’ve given anything to know what she was thinking, to know what she was going to do with him. Her soft expression told him she was not currently predisposed to pull her gun on him again, or handcuff him, yell at him, or slap him. Trying to take solace in that fact, while still fearing the meaning of that far-away look, Sergio got up to take over the coffee-making from her. She flinched in surprise, but let go of the pot and sat down. 

Raquel thought back to her experience throughout her career. Fresh out of the Academy, she used to get frustrated at having to follow orders that she felt didn’t benefit the people on the ground, the ones they were supposedly there to serve. There had always been organisational, political or practical priorities that rendered real policing virtually impossible. She had sworn she would one day fight the rigid system and achieve real change, turn the police force into the one she thought she’d be joining when she applied. Yet oddly enough the more she rose in the ranks, the less she found herself in a position to affect much of anything. It seemed her hands were always tied “for the greater good”, the reputation of the police somehow becoming the number one priority. It wasn’t about protecting people, it was about protecting the police, maintaining the status quo. 

She had never been particular fond of the status quo. 

Sergio’s plan represented an extreme way of standing up to the powers that be. Extreme and risky, but with her help the likelihood of anyone getting hurt would decrease significantly. _What the hell?_ Was she actually considering joining forces with him? How was she even entertaining the thought? What would it mean for her life, her career, her daughter, her mother? 

If she’d never met Sergio she would’ve continued fighting the system from the inside, but she couldn’t go back in time. She had met him. He’d broken her phone and as a consequence here they were, together, in the eye of the storm. And she had a decision to make. Her options were to report him, to walk away pretending like she knew nothing and hunt him down once he launched the heist, or to join forces with him. There was no way she would turn him in, or fight his plan, knowing what it stood for. The authorities would go apeshit once it was underway though, and there was no telling what they would do, how many innocent people would end up hurt. So the option that remained was to join him.

This heist could blow up her career, Raquel had no doubt about that. Whether she joined Sergio or not. But as far as her life, Paula, and her mother went, she felt she’d betray the three by continuing to turn a blind eye to a broken system. And with that, her mind was made up.

Having joined her at the table, Sergio caught that something in Raquel’s demeanour changed. She sat straighter, squared her shoulders, raised her chin, and looked at him determinedly. He realised she had made a decision. Though he had no idea what that decision was, he knew he was about to find out whether or not he was royally fucked.

“What are you going to do Raquel?”

Her smirk told him he was right, that she knew exactly what she was going to do, and that he had no say in it. He was simply going to have to deal with whatever it entailed. He nervously shifted his glasses, while she got up and began rummaging through his cupboards and got out two cups.

“I’m going to make sure no one gets hurt in this heist of yours.”

She didn’t catch his stunned expression as she poured them each a cup of coffee, then got milk out of the fridge. He got the sugar and two spoons out, trying to work up the courage to ask her to elaborate. He sat back down as she took a sip of her coffee, then looked him straight in the eyes and stated, “But you and I are finished.”

He knew it the moment he’d woken up, but hearing it hurt all the same. He nodded. It was the only logical thing to do, he knew it was. It was better this way. “No personal relationships.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He hadn’t meant to state one of the rules for his future team out loud. “So what exactly does it mean?”

“It means I’ll give you what you were hoping to get from me anyways: insight into how the police is likely to react in different scenarios. Whether I’m put in charge or someone else is.” 

Sergio couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Raquel knew the truth, yet she was casually sipping coffee, telling him she would help him. “Really?”

She nodded, “And I’ll review your plan critically, you need a second pair of eyes on it.”

“I do?”

“Of course you do, everybody does.”

“But I…”

She eyed him defiantly, “You what?”

He wanted to tell her it was out of the question. That she could function as a consultant on police procedures, but that he wasn’t about to hand over every aspect of his plan to her, to anyone. But her lips were pursed, she had her arms crossed across the chest, an eyebrow raised, and he didn’t have the nerve to do turn her down. 

He usually spoke to his brother about the plan, but he had never been heavily invested in it, and was currently focused on another plan he and a friend of his were concocting. That plan was impossible to pull off and Sergio was certain he’d eventually convince his brother to leave it and focus on this one, but until then, he could do with a second pair of eyes. She was challenging him to fight her on her request, but truth be told, Sergio could use her as a sounding board. And he respected Raquel, had even wondered various times in the past five months what she would make of the plan. Now she was offering to help him, and gave him a chance to keep seeing her. Not as lovers, but at least she would remain in his life, and he couldn’t quite believe his luck.

Raquel took his silence as confirmation that they were on the same page. “Tell me about the team you’re assembling.”

“Now?”

Raquel yawned and stretched. “No time like the present.”

He wished she wouldn’t do that, stretch and let her top slid up, revealing her stomach. It reminded him far too much of the intimacy and semblance to a normal life they had been sharing until that very morning. 

They may have been lying to one another in those months, he more than her, but Sergio had genuinely enjoyed the mornings when she had spent the night. He could’ve spent hours just watching her read the newspaper, sipping her coffee, her hand absentmindedly seeking out his hair, his beard, his lower back. 

But that was no longer what they were and the sooner he accepted that, the better off they both would be. But she didn’t need to stretch like that in front of him. 

Unaware of Sergio’s eyes glued on her, Raquel tucked her hair behind her ear, “I wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else anyways.”

Tearing himself away, Sergio got up and soon returned with six folders. As he laid them in front of her, a thought struck him. “Raquel, are you…?”

She opened the top file and answered him absent-mindedly, “Am I what?”

“Still here to gather enough information? To stop me?”

She looked up from the file, frowning, “Would I tell you if I was?”

“Probably not.”

She returned to the file with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “The thought did occur to me, but no, I’m not.”

She had considered that option at several points throughout the night. In her pettiest moments, when she was filled with rage and humiliation at what he had put her through, she thought it the perfect revenge for him lying to her all these months. But she couldn’t bring herself to doing it to him, nor to his plan. It was a brilliant plan that she, in spite of everything she had been brought up to stand for, actually believed in. So no, she wasn’t going to play Sergio like a fiddle, however tempting the thought might be whenever she was reminded of his lies. 

Raquel didn’t have the energy or will to ease whatever worries Sergio was grappling with, and was flipping through the first file when her stomach growled, “Oh. Do you have anything to eat?”

Taken aback by how casually she was changing gears in their relationship, Sergio struggled to keep up. “I… No, but I can go out and get us something if you’d like?”

“Please. I’ll look through these files while you’re gone.” 

Sergio nodded and was halfway out the door when he stopped, realising he was about to leave a police officer, one he had been lying to for five months, in his apartment with his entire plan. 

Sensing his hesitation, she looked up, “What?”

He shifted from one foot to the other and motioned to the files she was pouring over, “It’s just…”

“Oh, right.” The thought that he wouldn’t trust her hadn’t really occurred to Raquel. While it annoyed and insulted her, she was quite hungry and was not about to leave _him_ alone in the flat, giving him the perfect opportunity to bolt and take his plan with him. She might believe in his devotion to the plan, but she didn’t trust him yet. 

She threw him her phone, “Happy?”

Catching it, Sergio nodded and left, closing the door behind him. 

He hurried to the Hanoi to pick them each up a sandwich, wanting to trust that she would still be there upon his return, with his logical mind screaming at him that he had just fucked it all up, that there was no way that she would actually work with him on his plan. It was with palpable relief he opened the door to find her pouring over the files, now strewn about on the table. He handed her the sandwich, she thanked him, took a bite, then tossed a folder towards him.

“This man,” she tapped her finger at the open file, “Andrés de Fonollosa.”

Sergio nudged his glasses nervously; he did not particularly want to talk about his brother. “What about him?”

She clocked the change in his demeanour, _he’s nervous_. Realising there was something he didn’t want her to know, Raquel was even more eager to find out what it was about. “Why him?”

“What do you mean?”

She smirked and raised an eyebrow at him, silently letting him know she was on to him. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. 

“He’s the best man for the job.”

“And…?”

“That’s it, every member of the team is selected because they are the best I could find for their specific duties.”

“Right.”

Sergio swallowed hard but didn’t add anything else and Raquel closed the file. “Look. If this is going to work, I won’t tolerate you lying to me. I may not need to know everything, but I will _not_ be lied to. Understood?”

Sergio nodded, but had no idea how to handle the situation. He understood her need to know, but it was all happening too fast for him. And of all the things she could ask about, of course she’d cut right through the heart of it and zoom in on his brother.

“Good. Now, Andrés de Fonollosa is a risky person to include, even more so to put in charge. So I ask again, why him?”

Sergio sighed, resigned, and ran a hand through his hair. “He’s… He’s my brother.”

Raquel’s eyes went wide, “Your brother?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck.” 

She eyed him thoughtfully, aware that she was heading into sensitive territory. Sergio hadn’t told her much about his brother but from what he had shared, she deduced that he cared for him deeply, and that he was the only family member he had left. She knew she shouldn’t press him on it, but what she’d read in de Fonollosa’s file filled her with doubt and she couldn’t simply let it go. 

She decided to try her luck and push him a little further, “But he’s…”

“Not negotiable.”

Raquel took another bite of her sandwich as she processed the information. “So, you trust him.”

Sergio nodded again and, much to his relief, Raquel didn’t press him further on it. 

They spent the day going over the plan, with Raquel’s questions causing Sergio to note more aspects he still needed to cover. Her insights on the team he was assembling quickly proved invaluable, and she informed him that he needed to identify a new expert in forgery as the one he currently had in mind was going to sell them out as soon as things got dicey on the inside, if not before then. In the late afternoon she stretched and told him she needed to pick her daughter up from her ex-husband's house and that planning the heist of the century was simply going to have to wait. 

Chuckling, he handed her a burner phone. “We need to make sure nothing links us to one another going forward.”

“Right.” She took the phone from him and remembered she was going to have to destroy the notebook where she’d noted her observations about him the past few months. 

“Raquel, if we’re going to do this, your cover needs to be beyond reproach.”

She hummed in reply while gathering her things, “In case anyone starts suspecting I’m collaborating with you.”

“Right. It shouldn’t happen, but we need to be prepared for it, just in case.”

She nodded. This represented a contentious part of the plan for her; the way he had meant to use her as a pawn in his heist, not caring that he might end up humiliating her or ruining her career. He swore that he hadn’t settled on whether or not he would approach her, nor how. And he was vehement about the fact that once they met five months ago, he’d pushed making any decision on how she would fit into the heist on the future, even though procrastinating was out of character for him. She wasn’t entirely satisfied with his answers, but they would have to do for the moment. 

She turned to him as she was about to leave. “Oh, one last thing… No one can know about my involvement in this.”

“Of course not.”

“That includes your brother.”

“Raquel, he’s…”

She raised her hand to stop him, “It’s not up for debate. My future hangs in the balance with this. I’m not putting my faith and my family’s lives in the hands of a man with his credentials, regardless of whether or not he’s your brother.” 

She neglected to tell him that based on what she’d read about him, she had no doubt de Fonollosa would use the knowledge that she was working with them as, and when, it suited him. 

Sergio nodded unsurely, “Alright. I won’t tell him.”

“Good. I’ll… See you on Thursday then?”

He nudged his glasses and attempted a smile, “Thursday.”

Leaving Sergio’s flat the exhaustion of the night washed over her, yet Raquel felt oddly invigorated. The intellectual challenge of going over the plan with Sergio was unlike anything she’d experienced in her career, and she’d felt alive arguing with him over the ethics of the heist, as well as the actual practicalities of it. She’d had to remind herself that she was planning a crime, that she was crossing a line she could never uncross. Regardless of what was to come, she would forever carry this with her. It was a sobering thought, but one that also brought her back to the core of why she had spent the entire day planning a heist: she couldn’t deny that Sergio had a point. 

Objectively speaking, his heist was a masterpiece and with Sergio at the helm Raquel believed it could quite likely be pulled off without anyone getting hurt. And so she was in. For his plan, for her convictions, for her daughter, and for the country she wanted Paula to grow up in. 

* * *

The following Thursday, Raquel knocked on Sergio’s apartment door, heart pounding. In the few days since she’d last seen him, she had gone back and forth on her decision, and on whether or not she could trust him. Luckily, Paula had been with her, keeping her occupied and demanding her attention. But the moment the girl was in bed, Raquel’s mind would go over everything that had happened between her and Sergio. Every lie he’d fed her, every overwhelming moment they’d shared, every time he’d looked at her with such profound emotions, brushing a stray hair from her face, she thought her heart might combust even though she’d known he wasn’t who he claimed to be. 

Her mother had asked her over the weekend how that mystery man of hers was doing, and Raquel informed her that they were done. She told her that it had been an intense fling, but that it was now over. It’s how she tried to view it herself: she’d had a passionate love affair with Salva, it was over, and she was now entering a partnership with Sergio. Two entirely separate matters. 

She tried very hard to convince herself that the feelings she’d developed for him, as well their evident attraction to one another, wasn’t going to be a problem.

Heading over to Sergio’s, Raquel was acutely aware of how nervous she was. She feared that she would find the apartment empty and be left with the undeniable truth that he had played her for all she was worth and that she had been powerless to withstand him. Her body was alert, her heartrate accelerated, her breathing shallow. She released a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding as the door opened, relieved beyond measures, and chuckled upon seeing that Sergio’s expression matched her own.

He stood aside to let her in and she shot him an amused look. “Relieved that I’m here? And without a swat team?”

Smiling nervously, he nodded and took her jacket. Before he finally heard the door knock, Sergio had been pacing the apartment, anxiously awaiting her arrival, questioning his sanity for actually believing she would show up. After they'd parted ways on Saturday, he had gone to Italy to see his brother. He was trying to get Andrés to focus on his plan against the Royal Mint, but he had insisted Sergio go through the plan that he was planning against the Bank of Spain with his friend Martín instead. He was fairly certain Andrés wouldn’t let him down when push came to shove, but he was frustrated at having to waste time on an impossible heist. 

It was always good seeing his brother though, and he had been tempted to talk to him about Raquel. About her role in the heist, and her role in his life. But he had given Raquel his word that her involvement would remain between them, and he needed to honour that promise. Besides, he wouldn’t have known where to begin describing what he shared with her.

She removed her heels. “I am too. The scenario of finding this place empty popped into my head more times than I care to admit in the last few days.”

“Really?” 

Entering the flat she spoke absentmindedly, taking in the space she’d only recently discovered, “Yes.” 

“And what would you have done?” At her questioning look, he added, “If you’d found the space empty I mean.”

Feeling unexpectedly at ease now that she was there with him, Raquel answered playfully. “Hunt you down obviously, and make you pay.”

She was setting a light tone, and he tried to follow her lead. “Well, I’m glad I won’t have to go through that then.”

“You and me both. I have a life you know, obligations.” She winked at him, “I can’t spend all my time chasing you around.” She motioned to the covered windows, “Can we remove the fabric blocking the windows? It’s too depressing like this. And it doesn’t serve any purpose. Anyone looking in would just see you, or us, going over papers. Not exactly riveting stuff.”

Hesitating, Sergio attempted to stall. “Is this you trying to force sunshine and fresh air into my narrow window of opportunity?” 

Raquel laughed at the memory of their first actual date, and the sound finally made Sergio relax. 

This was Raquel, he respected her, she respected him. He cared for her deeply and enjoyed her company. Yes, the dynamics of their relationship had drastically altered but if she could act normal, then he could too. And she was right. The windows had been covered when he began renting the space and he had kept them that way as a precaution, but it was an unnecessary one and he’d actually considered doing away with it a few times, but never got around to it once he met Raquel. 

She installed herself at the kitchen table where he had set out several folders they would need, while he removed the fabric from the window, “Shall we get to work?”

He had no idea how to navigate this new course of their relationship, but Raquel seemed unphased and he was going to follow her lead. The windows uncovered, he folded the fabric neatly, put it in a corner and joined her at the table. “Yes. Just a few weeks before you and I met, I figured out how to enter the Mint undetected.”

_**One year, six months before the heist** _

It had been one month, Raquel was still by his side, and Sergio was slowly getting used to the change in their relationship. Much to his surprise he’d never ceased feeling comfortable around her, probably thanks to her plunging herself headfirst into his plan. 

His plan. He still struggled sharing it with her. She would come over as often as she could after work or on weekends to poke holes in his theories, question his logic, and push him to consider even further how robbers, hostages and police officers alike might react in stressful situations. He wasn’t used to it and what was worse, he couldn’t simply brush of her thoughts and suggestions, because they were good. She would make the plan better, stronger, safer, of that he was certain. 

He just wasn’t sure _he_ was ready for it. 

One good thing about her focus on the plan though, was that it allowed him to focus on it as well, rather than on her. He mostly managed just that while they went over the plan, or when they were both bended over their respective papers, making notes in the margins. But the minute they would talk about something else, even just what to do for lunch or dinner, or she would drag him out on a walk saying she needed fresh air and he probably did as well, his mind would become muddled again. Memories of kissing her, stroking her hair, feeling her fingers play with his beard, lying in bed with her, naked, allowing himself to feel happy as he drifted off to sleep… It would all come back and destabilise him until they got back to the plan.

Today she had, luckily for him, been all business, and he was deep in thought calculating how much money they could feasibly expect to print without breaking the machines, when her voice broke through the silence.

“So, Sergio?”

“Mmm..?”

“The position for quality control is still open right? You haven’t identified anyone new yet?”

“Right, not yet. It’s only been a month since you dismissed the previous candidate.”

He didn’t look up as he answered. This was a new side to Sergio she’d discovered, how he would get completely lost in his plan. He would still answer her questions, but he’d do so without emotions or particular reflection, unless she shook him out of whatever headspace he was in with some very choice words. Distracted was exactly the state she wanted him in for what she was about to attempt next, as she had a feeling he wouldn’t react too well to it if he truly paid attention.

“Right. So, a couple of profiles just happened to come across my desk and I think that…”

His head snapped up and she bit her lower lip, she should’ve known it wouldn’t work.

“Raquel, you can’t leave any trails between you and any of the team members. If they get identified and anyone checks the system for who’s run searches on them then…”

She rolled her eyes and cut him off, this was hardly the reason she’d brought it up. “Then they’ll find nothing. I didn’t run a search on “criminals right for the plucking, sub-category: forgery.” Scoffing, she added, “But thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“I… I’m sorry Raquel, I didn’t mean it that way.”

She waved him off. She certainly had his attention now, whether she wanted it or not.

“I found someone.” She left and returned with her briefcase. She got a folder out, handing it to a clearly apprehensive Sergio. “Ágata Jiménez. She’ll be released from prison in six months’ time when she’ll have finished serving a two-year sentence for possession with the intent to sell.” At Sergio’s skeptical look, she added, “But she’s done time before, for counterfeiting. And she really has a knack for it.”

Sergio glanced over the file, “She has a son.”

“She does, and she’s unlikely to get him back. The system is stacked up against people like her. Without a job she’ll never get her son back, with her record she’s unlikely to get a job, and without a job she’ll have no money and will eventually turn back to what she does best.”

“Selling drugs.”

Raquel pointedly corrected him, “Counterfeiting. She’s getting out in six months, you’re sequestering with your team five months after that. She’ll be so disillusioned and desperate by then, your plan will seem like a salvation, and a chance at getting her son back.”

“Which it won’t be.”

“Not legally, no. It’s a tragedy, and I take no pleasure in it. But it is one which will ensure her loyalty to you and the plan, of that I’m sure. She’ll do everything to ensure it runs smoothly, and she’s meticulous.”

“Not so meticulous she didn’t get herself arrested.”

Raquel rolled her eyes, “Well, if we’re only looking for people with a clean record, then I hate to tell you that you have to dismiss your entire team and start again from scratch.” She had expected resistance from him, but she’d also expected far more reasonable arguments. This was the reaction of a petulant child rather than the calm, collected genius she’d gotten to know in the past six months. “And one more thing, she’s not gotten into any trouble in prison, none. She’s not a violent person, she’s a survivor. Exactly what you need.” 

Sergio’s mind went blank, he hadn’t expected this. He still struggled sharing his plan with her, but now she actually brought in possible new team members? He was relinquishing too much control, and he didn’t like it. He was about to tell her no, but caught the determination in her face and saw that she was bracing for a fight. Recognising that he didn’t have any valid arguments, he decided to stall until he could gather his thoughts and approach her proposition from a logical, rational standpoint. Now wasn’t that time.

“I’ll keep her in mind, I promise.”

“Sergio…”

“Raquel please. I’m not used to this.” He nudged his glasses. “To sharing this with anyone but my brother. And with him it’s not about this amount of details. He’ll fight me on some things, but he’s not really involved in the planning, I just keep him posted whenever he’s willing to listen. Which is not always seeing as, the way he puts it, he, unlike I, has a life.” 

He looked at her pleadingly and Raquel acquiesced, mildly annoyed. “Alright, alright. Fine.” 

She glanced over at the file he had been studying before she’d interrupted him, but shook her head as she was not in the mood for math. “Walk me through the risk analysis you did for the other team members instead?”

“You remember that?”

“Of course I remember, the swot analysis. I was trying to figure out what the hell you were up to and who, or what, you were actually conducting it for.”

“But how did you know I was doing it, that I wasn’t lying about even undertaking an analysis in the first place?”

Raquel shrugged, “You were clearly a very gifted liar. I figured you knew to stay as close to the truth as possible to make sure you weren’t caught with your hand in the cookie jar.”

“Oh.” Being reminded of how quickly she’d caught on to him always brought a sense of unease over Sergio. He felt naïve, but also didn’t like to dwell over how she had in turn lied to him for three months. Though they were slowly getting to trust each other, he had been clueless to the fact that she was lying to him, and that at times worried him. 

Raquel brought him back to the present by poking him.

“Stop brooding over the past Sergio, spill.”

He smiled, grateful for her ability to cut through his reveries. “I told you before Raquel, I do not brood.”

_**One year, five months before the heist** _

Walking out of her therapist’s office, Raquel reflected on how the past two months had passed in a blur of absurd routine where she juggled work, Paula, her bastard of an ex-husband, and meeting Sergio to continue going over the details of his plan. While the circus that currently was her life left her with an ever-present headache, her trust in Sergio and his plan grew with each passing meeting. 

She’d been more than a little apprehensive at first, they’d both been. But they had established ground rules, and had managed to build an unexpected trust on that basis. They wouldn’t lie to one another, but were under no obligation to divulge everything, unless the other could provide a convincing argument as to why they needed that specific piece of information. 

Little by little they shared more and more about themselves, usually when Raquel demanded a break from planning, and their respective doubts gradually dissipated without either of them noticing. One thing Raquel did notice though, was how very hard she had to try not to jump him. 

It was a constant struggle. 

She had quickly started thinking of him as Sergio rather than Salva, and she was still as attracted to him as ever. The close physical proximity they shared while going over the plan, not to mention the intellectual exchanges and light teasing that would inevitably occur, had done nothing to alleviate that. However attracted she was to Sergio though, and she was ridiculously attracted to him, she needed to focus on healing and couldn’t afford to get sucked into what she knew was a doomed relationship. 

It was one thing to know what she needed to do though, and an entirely different one not to straddle him and fuck his brains out when he explained a particularly complex part of the plan to her with a proud, yet improbably shy, smile. Raquel had lost count of the number of times she found herself staring at his lips, only to be brought out of her trance by his apparent cluelessness, asking why she wasn’t paying attention. Tempted as she was to give in to her urges, she fought them off by reminding herself of the necessity of finding her own footing again, to rebuild what Alberto had meticulously tore down after years of abuse. 

In truth, keeping her hands off Sergio was the least of her problems. Though her divorce was recently finalised, Alberto continued to be the bane of her existence. Having spent the past years in pure survival mode, it oddly hadn’t occurred to Raquel that she would never be able to fully rid herself of him, emotionally or physically. She had begun seeing a therapist a few weeks prior, and had slowly come to the realisation that she would spend the rest of her life mending from her years with Alberto. And that as determined as she was not to be defined by his abuse, she was going to have to accept that she would always carry it with her.

By far the hardest pill to swallow though, was that she had allowed her daughter to grow up in an abusive household. How much had her little girl seen, or heard? And what the hell was Raquel going to do now? They were divorced and had shared custody. Alberto was forever going to be in Paula’s life, and by extension in hers as well. She had no idea what her ex-husband’s abuse meant for Paula’s safety, for her future. Surely Alberto would never hurt his daughter physically, but how would it affect her emotionally and psychologically if he did this to another woman? Would he do it to another woman? Could she really trust that he would never hurt Paula, if not physically, then at the very least emotionally? Raquel of all people knew exactly the kind of man he was, what he was capable of.

She couldn’t make heads nor tails of it. Her therapist had warned her she was in for a long process, that there were no shortcuts. She’d been advised not to make any drastic decisions, or take on any big changes in this period which was bound to be defined by inner turmoil. _No problem_ , Raquel thought, taking the long way to Sergio’s to try to clear her head, it’s not like she had recently made one of the biggest decisions of her life by aligning herself with Sergio and was currently planning one of the most extreme crimes the country had ever seen. 

_No major life decisions at all._

Speaking of Sergio, he’d just gotten back from a trip to Italy where he had attended his brother’s wedding, apparently the man’s fifth, and Raquel was curious. She couldn’t imagine Sergio at a wedding and after her therapy session, she was ready to be distracted with stories of his escapades. The plan could wait.

Sergio had just gotten out of the shower and begun unpacking when there was a knock on the door. He wasn’t expecting Raquel, but assumed it was her and hurried to let her in. He hadn’t seen her in several days and had missed her more than he cared to admit. Every time something had happened during his trip, he’d found himself wanting to share it with her, to get her take on it, for her to laugh at him for his inability to let go, turn off his brain, and just enjoy the moment. He hoped she was there to see him, that maybe she’d missed him too, but then remembered they had agreed she would come over that evening to work on the heist.

“Raquel.” He moved out of the way, holding the door for her, “Come on in.”

“Thanks.” She sat in the sofa and patted the space next to her, “How was the wedding?”

“It was… A wedding.” Unsure of what was happening, why she sat in the sofa rather than the usual kitchen table, Sergio sat down as well, at a safe distance from her. “How have you been?”

Raquel snickered and pulled up her feet, crossing her legs. “Nice try. Tell me about it.”

“Raquel, we have work to do.”

“That’s true. And the sooner you tell me about the wedding, the sooner we’ll get to work.” She had no intention of getting to work though, she just needed to be distracted. To be told tales far removed from the heist that was constantly looming over them.

Sergio didn’t know where to start. He’d spent the past few days wanting to tell her everything, yet now had no idea how to do just that. This wasn’t about the plan, it wasn’t a conversation in between planning sessions, or during one of their walks. This was just a conversation, a request for personal information, and he suddenly felt nervous.

Raquel waved her hand in his direction. “Oh, come on! Was the bride blushing, the groom dashing, the groomsmen devilishly handsome?”

“Raquel…”

“The wine flowing, the dancing outlandish, the conversations…”

He laughed, “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. My brother seemed happy, and so did his now wife.”

Sensing his hesitation, Raquel tilted her head, eyebrows raised. “But?”

“But I have reservations.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure he’s being completely honest with her, or that she knows what she’s getting herself into.”

Raquel scoffed, “It must run in the family…” Sergio looked so uncomfortable that she took pity on him and quickly continued. “Did you have fun?”

“I actually did, eventually. I danced.”

Raquel’s mouth dropped, “You danced, YOU danced?”

Sergio looked down at his hands, chuckling. “I did.”

“I thought you didn’t see the point in it?” Raquel had tried to get him to dance with her a handful of times in the months that they had dated, but he’d categorically refused.

“I still don’t, but I was forced into it.”

“And you enjoyed it.”

Sensing his answer might be used against him at some point, Sergio shrugged. “I didn’t say that, I said that I enjoyed myself, and that I danced. Those are two separate things.”

“Right.” Raquel shook her head, snickering, “Two entirely separate things.” 

_**One year, three months before the heist** _

He was dating her sister, the son of a bitch had actually started dating her sister. Raquel was livid. Alberto had showed up that morning to pick up Paula and had thrown it in her face with a smirk, pretending like he was telling her out of consideration. “We just thought that you should know, since our relationship is getting serious.” In complete shock, Raquel had hugged her daughter goodbye and gathered her things the second they drove away, dashing out of the house as soon as she could. 

She felt trapped, needed to breath, and had no idea what to do with herself. Before she knew it, the burner phone was in her hand and she called Sergio, asking him to take her out of Madrid. Stuttering, he answered that of course he would and that he could come pick her up in half an hour. Needing to keep moving, Raquel told him she’d rather come to him. 

Sergio didn’t know why she’d finally left Alberto, simply that it had been a messy divorce. No one knew of the abuse but her therapist, who had suggested she share it with people she trusted, even press charges. They had talked about it in her session that week and Raquel had insisted pressing charges would only make a bad situation worse, but if her sister was now falling into Alberto’s trap… Raquel wiped at a tear and picked up the pace, she couldn’t wait to get out of the city. 

She was suffocating, and desperately needed air.

She met Sergio as he was coming out of his building, a backpack in hand, and followed him to an old red Seat Ibiza parked further down the street. The sight of the old car made Raquel smile and she knew she had made the right decision in calling him. He unlocked and opened the door for her and when he’d gotten in as well, turned to her as he started the engine.

“Where are we going?”

“Can you just drive? Please?”

He gave her a small smile and nodded, “Sure.”

Occasionally glancing over at Raquel, Sergio felt about as far out of his comfort zone as he had one of the first mornings they’d woken up together and Raquel had swung her legs over the bed, stretched, and gotten up, stark naked, leaving him gaping after her. But this time she didn’t return with a smirk to give him one of the most pleasant awakenings of his life. She was staring out the window, something was clearly weighing on her, and he had no idea what she wanted him to do.

“Raquel, are you alright?”

She ran her fingers over the car window as she answered, “I don’t know.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

She finally turned to him, placed her hand over his on the gear stick and gave him a small smile, “You’re doing it Sergio.”

He nodded and simply drove to get out of the city. When he saw the signs towards Peñalara natural park, he remembered Raquel telling him while they were dating how much she missed spending her weekends in nature, the way she had as a child. Having picked up a few supplies before Raquel arrived, Sergio figured they had what they needed to spend the day outdoors and followed the signs. Raquel fell asleep and woke up as he parked about an hour after they left.

She took a deep breath stepping out of the car and, appearing groggy, blinked a few times to get her bearings, then smiled at him over the roof. “This is perfect Sergio.”

“I’m glad.” He got his backpack out and began walking, with Raquel following suite. “Do you… Do you want to talk about it?”

Walking next to him, she kept her eyes trailed on her feet. “Thank you for asking, but no. I just need to…” She shrugged and gazed into the horizon, “I don’t know. Be.”

She knew she was going to have to talk about it at some point, but today was not the day. And she wasn’t ready to tell Sergio about her marriage. She didn’t want pity and couldn’t bare it if he started viewing her differently, started treating her any differently. She didn’t need any more reminders of what she’d lived through.

They hiked a light trail in comfortable silence and surrounded by nothing but the sounds of nature and their footsteps, anxiety slowly loosened its grip on Raquel. Reaching the lagoon that was their destination, Raquel tilted her head towards the sun, stretched out her arms and took several deep breaths. 

Sergio had sat a blanket out for them and was about to sit down to set out their lunch when he looked over to Raquel and caught her smiling with her eyes closed, tears running down her cheeks. He took a few steps towards her and hesitated slightly before putting an arm around her shoulder. She leaned into him, placed her head on his shoulder and allowed herself to enjoy the view and a moment of serenity with this man she’d come to depend on more than she’d realised.

“Thank you for today Sergio.”

They had just parked back on his street and gotten out. While she wasn’t aware of it when she called him, she had needed a friend that day, and Sergio had been there for her. His company alone had soothed her, taken some of the edge off of the mess that was her life. He’d even gotten her to laugh, telling her stories of his awkward attempts at socialising in his early twenties. The day had left Raquel with a new, deeper appreciation for him, one built on the truth of who they both were rather than lies. 

They had been lovers, then associates in crimes, but now she realised they had throughout that time built a profound friendship, and she was eternally grateful for it. How she would have gotten through this day without him, was anyone’s guess. She still had no idea how to deal with her sister, but at least she right then had some peace of mind, and didn’t feel the need to simultaneously scream and crawl out of her own skin. As she followed him into his flat and closed the door behind her, she wasn’t ready for the day to end.

“I want to get drunk.”

Sergio looked at her in surprise and shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea Raquel.”

Chin raised in defiance, she huffed. “Of course it isn’t. It’s a terrible idea, that’s the whole point.”

“But then… Why?”

“Because I need to forget Sergio, even if it’s just for one evening and I know I’ll feel even worse tomorrow. I need to forget all about my shitty ex-husband, about…” She stopped herself, not wanting to dwell on the events of that morning. “About the fact that I’m a police officer planning one of the biggest heists in history, about how my divorce is going to affect my daughter, about my colleagues asking me if I’m on my period just because I dare to question one of their half-assed arguments. I just want to forget it all for even just one second.”

She removed her jacket, tossed it on the sofa and walked with determined steps to the kitchen, rummaging through his cupboards. “Aha!” She triumphantly handed him the wine bottle she found and continued her search, now for a wine opener.

“Raquel, what are you doing?”

“Well, I can’t get drunk with anyone else since I might start spilling some chosen truths.” She shot him a pointed look, “So you’re going to have to keep me company and make sure I don’t do anything stupid. You have no choice.” 

Pleased with the panicked look on his face, Raquel burst out laughing. “Really, it’s too easy Sergio.” She found the wine opener and handed it to him “Don’t worry, I’m mostly joking, but… share some wine with me?”

Sergio was nervous. Getting drunk together was a terrible idea. He knew there was no way he’d be able to keep his hands off her if his inhibitions got lowered. He struggled enough with it when he was stone cold sober… But she was going through something and was asking him to have wine with her, and he didn’t have it in him to turn her down. Not when her eyes were pleading with him and she sported a mischievous grin.

“Just _some_ wine?”

“Well, maybe a little bit too much wine.” She nodded as she got out glasses for them. “Yes, definitely a little too much wine.”

He poured the wine and she clinked her glass with his, “How are you going to handle the pressure of a heist if you’re this easily spooked?”

“I’m not easily spooked.” He took a sip of wine, “I’m steady as a rock.”

She snorted, “Sure you are…”

Raquel woke up the next day, naked in Sergio’s bed, with a hint of a headache and needing a few seconds to reconstruct the night. She’d had sex with Sergio. Drunken, sloppy, happy sex. She remembered laughing as they clumsily undressed each other and stumbled into bed. Even in her tipsy state she’d known it wasn’t a smart thing to do but she’d been so damned good at keeping her hands off him, she’d felt like she deserved a treat. And a treat she got.

She couldn’t bring herself to regret it. She imagined things would be awkward between them for some time, but the day they had shared gave her faith that they could be adults about it and move on. 

Nothing had changed really, they had just blown off some much-needed steam, and now they’d go back to being co-conspirators. She could almost hear Sergio’s voice: “No personal relationships Raquel”. Well, he needn’t worry. She actually agreed with him that they shouldn’t mix business with this particular pleasure, and she wouldn’t cross this line again. 

Sergio wasn’t in bed with her, he had probably panicked upon waking up next to her. She stretched happily, amused by the idea that she’d sent Sergio running for the hills. In all likelihood though, he’d gone out to get her a coffee and was thinking of ways to apologise for what had happened, as if it had been his fault, and of arguments to convince her they could never do it again. 

She got up to shower and as she came out of the bathroom found a sheepish-looking Sergio with a coffee waiting for her, and her heart warmed at the sight.


	4. Trust

_“Did you spend a lot of time on the beach?”_

_“Yes, our house was right on the water.”_

_“What would you do there?”_

_“What?”_

_“Well, would you for instance ever watch the sunset from the beach?”_

_“Sunrise.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“On that side of the island, we would catch the sunrise more than the sunset. And yes, I’d be forced to get up crazy early to watch it sometimes. It was really pretty though.”_

_“You said “we” would catch the sunrise.”_

_“Right.”_

_“Who is “we” in this case?”_

_“Oh. Me, my mom, my grandmother...”_

_“And what about Mr. Marquina?”_

_“What about him?”_

_“Would he be with you on the beach, watching the sunrise?”_

_[Silence]_

_“It’s not a trick question Paula. We know that Sergio Marquina lived with you in Palawan.”_

_“Ok.”_

_“So would he be there with you, on the beach?”_

_“Uhm... Yes, Sergio was there too. He didn’t like getting sand everywhere, but he was there.”_

### 

Waking up with Raquel in his arms, Sergio spent a few precious seconds in blissful ignorance. The world kept at bay, he only knew what was currently filling his senses: he was in bed, with Raquel, and he was exactly where he wanted to be. The instant he remembered who they now were to each other though, and what had happened the previous night, the illusion was shattered. A sense of panic took its place, fuelled by a conviction that they had just managed to ruin everything they had spent the past four months building, for one night. 

He tore himself away from her, knowing that if he waited to do so there was a significant risk he wouldn’t be able to let her go. If it was up to him, if he could shut off his rational mind, he’d spend the entire day in bed with her, making up for lost time. But he couldn’t, and they shouldn’t. Besides, even if he could let go and allow his emotions to run the show for the day, Raquel had made it clear that they were over. She’d left no opening when she’d agreed to help him, or rather demanded to do so. 

Last night had been a slip, and he knew why they had let it happen. Raquel had clearly been emotional and that, combined with the wine, had contributed to her letting her guard down. As for him, his own inhibitions lowered while seeing Raquel tipsy and giggling, had left him utterly unable to resist her. Raquel did not giggle. The only other times he’d heard her do it, was in the throes of passion, making the sound even more tantalising.

Sergio had no real regrets, just apprehensions as to what it would mean for them going forward, but he feared she’d regret what had happened the moment she’d wake up. They had gradually been getting closer since she confronted him four months prior, and as hard as it had been for him to only think of her as that, they had worked well as associates. They seemed to have found a balance that worked, and that delicate balance was in all likelihood the only way forward. Raquel stirred as he got up but much to his relief she didn’t wake up. He needed some time to gather himself.

He left her in bed, one leg peeking out from under the cover, and got ready, glancing back at her sleeping form as he headed out, knowing she’d want a coffee when she woke up. He was also hoping the walk over to the café down the street would clear his head and give him the courage and strength to face Raquel. Try as he might to make good use of the time though, he failed to come up with a strategy for broaching the topic of the state of their relationship with her, even less for one on how they would move forward. 

Having just returned, still without a formulated strategy, he stood in the hall with two coffees in hand when she came out of the bathroom, leaving him struggling to know where to look. His gaze ultimately landing on her, he noticed two things. One, she never failed to take his breath away when she appeared like this in the mornings: no make-up, no frills, barefoot. 

_God, he missed mornings with Raquel._

Two, she was eyeing him with a soft expression he couldn’t discern, and it added to his already considerable anxiousness.

Sergio looked like he wanted to disappear off the face of the earth. He smiled nervously, nodded repeatedly, and nudged his glasses as he shifted from one foot to the other. Spotting all of his telltale signs of apprehension, as well as some new ones added for good measure, Raquel felt guilty. His current discomfort was her fault, and she thanked her lucky stars that he hadn’t been in bed with her when she woke up. Lazy morning sex with Sergio was one of her weaknesses, and given his current state, she wasn’t certain he could have handled dealing with anything more than one drunken shag.

He eventually seemed to have reached a conclusion as to what to do with himself, and moved to the kitchen. Raquel followed him with a sigh. 

He set her coffee on the table, pulled out a chair for her and sat himself down on another chair. “Raquel, I…”

Cutting him off, she spoke softly. “Sergio, you can relax.” She sat and picked up her cup with a grateful smile, removing the lid. “I know what you’re going to say.”

“You do?” That made one of them, because Sergio was at a loss for words. He knew what needed to happen. They had to put the evening behind them in order to get back to normal. But he lacked both the willpower and clarity to achieve that.

Raquel however appeared calm, and hummed her reply while peering at him over her cup. She blew on the coffee, attempting to cool the hot beverage. 

“I do, and don’t worry. I agree with you.”

“You do.” Sergio was stunned. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, certainly not that she insist they continue their physical relationship. But he hadn’t foreseen this calm decisiveness, though perhaps he should have given it was the same one she’d displayed when she’d informed him she’d help him with the heist and that they were over. This was no-nonsense Raquel, a woman on a mission, one who wasn’t about to be dictated what to do. The Raquel that both amazed and intimidated him.

“I do.” She took a sip of her coffee before continuing. “Look, I don’t regret what happened last night. It was,” she smiled warmly, “a lot of fun.”

She bit her lip to keep from adding anything more suggestive and was rewarded with a small laugh escaping him as he bowed his head. _Good,_ he was getting more at ease. 

That smile, not to mention his laugh, never failed to melt Raquel. She wanted Sergio in her life, needed him in it even. They worked well as partners, and she would occasionally allow herself to get swept up in musings of thinking they could be more. But her situation hadn’t changed, their situation hadn’t changed, and in case she’d doubted it the previous day had reminded her with ruthless, irrefutable proof that she was still reeling from Alberto. She was nowhere near ready for a relationship and where Salva could have possibly been a fling, a re-bound, Sergio never could. Because the bond between them was growing ever stronger, because he made her laugh, because he made her feel safe, because he had been there for her.

“Really. Everything about yesterday was wonderful, and I can’t thank you enough for it, and for having too much wine with me.”

He held up his index and thumb, closing one eye. “Only a little too much.”

She nodded, grinning, “Exactly, just as agreed.”

This he knew how to do in his sleep, bicker with her. It had become one of his great joys since she burst into his life. “We never agreed on it Raquel, you just decided.”

“It was a tacit agreement.”

He held up a finger, “Ah, but a tacit agreement is not binding.”

She huffed, “You want a signed agreement next time?”

He shifted uncomfortably and she cursed herself. It was definitely too soon to joke about it. “Right. There won’t be a next time.”

He sported a nervous smile, and she sipped on her coffee before continuing. “I mean it Sergio, I don’t want to risk this,” she motioned between them, “any more than you do. It’s too important, the plan is too important.” 

She didn’t tell him that she couldn’t allow herself to fall for him for a million of other reasons. That he was not only set to soon disappear, but that she was in actuality terrified of the strength of her feelings for him, that she trusted him in the planning, but not with her heart, not given how they had started. That she had written him off as a potential partner the moment she realised he’d lied to her, not allowing herself to go down that path. 

He glanced over at her and was filled with gratitude at her presence, and her uncanny ability to put him at ease, even in what he’d expected to be one of the most awkward moments of their relationship. 

Absurdly enough, he had been more uncomfortable that morning than the time they’d had their guns pulled on each other, in what had been a moment of reckoning. But that time she’d given him no option other than to simply react, and to take the rage that was directed at him. This was different, and he was equal parts relieved and disappointed at her decision. Relieved, because he needed to keep Raquel in his life, in the plan, and the less complicating factors were in the mix, the higher the likelihood would be of that happening. Disappointed, as he missed the intimacy they once shared, and he desperately missed her smell, her body, her hands on him. 

Judging by his demeanour and pensiveness, Raquel suspected Sergio was stuck analysing every aspect of their relationship, and she wanted to bring him out of his revery. She stretched and cleared her throat.

“My brain is a little mushy after last night, but would you like to get some work done?”

By now she knew Sergio well enough to know that he was in his right element when talking about his plan. It was one of the few times he’d seemingly feel in control, and after what he’d given her the day before, she owed it to him to make this easier on him. 

“You could run me through how you plan to handle us offering one of your team members a deal in exchange for their cooperation?”

Sergio perked up at her words and after getting confirmation that she was indeed serious, practically bounced out of the chair to gather some of his notes. Raquel smiled and told herself not to question any of his points that day. Or at least, to try her very best not to. She could always come back to them another time. But for now, she would only give her thoughts if, and when, he explicitly asked for input.

Forty-five minutes in though, when he had been pacing the room recounting all the crimes his team could be prosecuted for and how much time in prison each might earn them, he stopped, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Raquel.”

She was bended over the file he’d given her, checking his figures, and answered absentmindedly, “Hmmm?”

“Why are you so quiet?”

She looked up, confused. “What do you mean? I’m listening.” At his sceptical look, she added, “I asked you to brief me on how you were going to keep your team from entering deals with the police and now I’m listening.”

“But you never…”

She frowned, “I never what?”

“Well. You always have questions, pointers. You never just let me…”

 _Oh._ He was on to her. She had actually gotten lost in listening to him, and there was nothing to remark on but he was right, she would always at least ask clarifying questions to make sure he had thought of everything, which he usually had. She hadn’t today, and now he was on to her. But she had one more trick up her sleeve. Desperate to keep him at ease and focused on the plan rather than the night before, she figured attack to be the best form of defence. 

“Are you saying I’m incapable of listening to other people? That I always need to make my opinion heard?”

She was relieved to see him nudge his glasses, flustered. This was the Sergio she knew, the one she wanted to keep working with, the one she was trying very hard not to spook.

“No, no, not at all.”

“So, you’re complaining that I’m listening to you?”

He shook his head and she shrugged with a half-smile. “Well then, by all means Sergio, do keep going.”

_**One year, two months before the heist**_  


Sergio was bent over a map, checking yet again that the way his team would take to the Mint would be the right one, cross-checking it with police reports on recent incidents along the route. He was deep in thought, while Raquel had gotten distracted by a buzzing fly and then found herself preoccupied by how focused Sergio was, seemingly not noticing the fly. 

She took the time to really look at him in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to do since they slept together one month ago, not wanting to make him squirm if he caught her staring. He would still keep an exaggerated distance to her and flinch in the few times that they got too close, and Raquel did her measured best to avoid adding to his unease. But maybe she was trying too hard and was in turn acting self-conscious, making him even less at ease. She sighed. She really hoped they could get back on track sooner rather than later, but at least they were still mostly acting normal when going over the plan. 

She got back to his notes and the map of the Royal Mint she’d been looking over before that blasted fly disrupted her focus, and smirked. He’d left something out, probably wondering if she would catch it. “So, you’ve already started digging part of the actual tunnel?”

His head shot up in surprise but he soon smiled broadly, seeming pleased and impressed with her, as well as proud of himself. “How did you reach that conclusion, Inspector?”

 _Smug bastard._ Here she’d been doing her measured best to make sure he be comfortable, while he had been leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for her, patiently waiting for her to prove her worth and find it. And now that she had, he almost flirted with her. He had called her Inspector a handful of times when they dated, but not since. She squinted, tilting her head as she took him in. Was this who Sergio was going to be once the heist started? Cool, collected, smug, leading her around by her nose again? She didn’t know quite how to feel about it, but quickly shook it off, getting back to the matter at hand.

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself.” 

To his credit, Sergio tried to contain his smirk. He failed, but at least he tried.

“Alright. It won’t take us too long to figure out that you’re digging a tunnel, if nothing else, we’ll pick up on the seismic activities it’s bound to generate. That, combined with the fact that you could connect to the sewage systems, makes for an easy conclusion that you’re escaping through those systems.” She winked, “And so, it being rather predictable and undoubtedly less than prudent, I’d be very surprised if that was your actual escape route.”

She paused but he waited for her to continue. “Any tunnel other than one connecting to the sewage system would have to be significantly longer, which you wouldn’t have time to dig once your team is inside. So, you must already have a tunnel that your team is aiming to connect to.”

Sergio was yet again reminded how lucky he was to have her on his side for this. She was the ultimate quality control, making sure he hadn’t forgotten a single detail, giving him an idea of how long he could reasonably expect the police to take before seeing through his diversion tactics.

Raquel poked him with her pen, “So? Where does the tunnel lead?”

“To the hangar.”

Eyebrows raised, she motioned for him to continue, “Which is…?”

He chuckled, “In Madrid.”

She scoffed, “Great, that narrows it down.”

“You need plausible deniability Raquel, we’ve agreed on this.”

“I could just lie if it ever came up.”

“That would put you at risk.”

Raquel shot up and began pacing. Sergio could tell she was frustrated and he thought he knew why. They’d had variations of this discussion since she’d confronted him. At times he’d given the winning argument as to why she should be kept in the dark, while other times she had, and he had subsequently given her the information she requested. But that had been before they’d again slept together and he had always felt he was arguing his cause, as opposed to clashing with her.

But months had passed, and she was a big part of not only his life, but also his life’s plan. He depended on her, on her presence and intellect, and now that they had slept together again, he didn’t know how far he could push her. He felt like he was arguing with _her_ , rather than defending his stance. The feeling destabilised him, and he acquiesced.

He motioned for her to come back to the table. “Ok, I’ll tell you.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes went wide, “You what?”

He stared at his hands and remained quiet.

Arms shooting to the side, she huffed. “Sergio, what the hell?”

He shifted in his chair, clearly uncomfortable. “You said you wanted to know.”

“And when has that ever been enough for you?”

Shoulders squared, jaw tense, eyes darting around the room, he looked like he desperately wanted to be anywhere but there, and realisation dawned on her.

“Oh. I see what’s going on. This is because we slept together a month ago.”

He looked even more miserable now, but Raquel was intent on powering through. If he could plant labyrinths for her to figure out, then he could damn well handle what had happened between them.

“We’re adults Sergio. It’s obvious there’s been an attraction between us, and we ended things rather abruptly. It was only a matter of time before we’d end up slipping. And throw some wine into the mix, and, well… We’re only humans.”

The wounded look he gave her only made her scoff. “Don’t look at me that way. What happened, happened. But we need to be able to put it behind us and focus on what’s at hand. We can’t be tip-toing around one another, or stop arguing our points, it would put the plan in jeopardy.”

She smirked, knowing she was about to deal him the final blow. “Now, you’ve spent a lifetime planning for this heist, surely you’re not about to let a personal relationship get in the way of it?”

He shook his head. Raquel was using his own rule against him, and it was evident he’d lost the battle. 

“I didn’t think so.” She sat back down, clasping her hands. “Now, let’s start again. Sergio, I’m really curious to know where the hangar through which you and your team will escape is located.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, “Hmm?”

Sergio chuckled, relieved to be back in familiar territory, and cleaned his glasses. “Well, Raquel, curiosity is hardly a strong enough argument...”

She cut him off, “It’s not just curiosity though, I need some sort of insurance.”

“Insurance against what?”

“For if I realise you’ve screwed me over.”

Sergio cleared his throat, “What if I realise you’ve screwed _me_ over when a swat team storms the hangar?”

They stared each other down until Raquel’s raised eyebrow told Sergio she was waiting for him to continue.

“Look. Those are not rational arguments. The bottom line is: in order for you to be beyond reproach once we begin, it’s vital that…”

_**One year, one month before the heist** _

In the past two months, Raquel had desperately tried to reach out to her sister, to understand what was happening between her and Alberto, but it had all been in vain. She had still yet to share the details of her history with her ex-husband with anyone, but he had already filled her sister’s head with lies, telling her that whatever Raquel might say about him would come from a place of bitterness and resentment. It pissed her off beyond belief but more than anything the thought of her sister living through the same hell she did broke her heart. What was worse, she knew she was powerless to stop it. Her therapist had continued to urge her to share her story, to report Alberto, but whenever she entertained the idea Raquel would picture Paula’s face, her little girl who adored her father, and she couldn’t bring herself to doing it.

Through it all, Sergio had been there. Things had finally gone back to normal between them, or at least as normal as they could be considering their particular situation. She doubted her co-conspirator knew what it meant for her to have a friend through this, unbeknownst to him, time of extreme turmoil. A friend she could laugh or argue with, one who could distract her with his plan or a lecture about some random fact that had for whatever reason been stored in his brain years earlier. A friend who could nonetheless annoy her like few others, which was the case on this particular evening.

“Alright, alright, that is all I want to hear about the European trials for witchcraft.” She stood, craning her neck.

“You’re not interested in it? In seeing what lessons we can glean from history about mob mentality and false accusations?”

“Of course I am. It’s very interesting, and you’re an excellent orator. But I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Professor.”

He nudged his glasses, head shooting her way in surprise. “Professor?” 

She shrugged, “It fits. You tend to act like one, especially when you launch into a lecture.” 

“I… I wasn’t lecturing you.” 

Raquel was staring him down with a raised eyebrow, and Sergio’s gaze began darting across the room. Though she only reached up to his shoulders, Raquel had an uncanny ability to make him squirm under her stare. Luckily in this case he hadn’t questioned anything of substance, or he would’ve been in for it, but a pissed off Raquel Murillo was still a pissed off Raquel Murillo. He tried to stand his ground, convinced that he was in the right this time, but if the past near year that he’d known her had taught him anything it was that he was no match for her. He suspected she knew it, and thought she took a little too much pleasure in the fact that she could make any grown man shake in his boots. 

“You weren’t? What would you call it then?” He shifted from foot to foot, still avoiding eye contact as she slid past him, “Hmm?” She added, pointedly, “Professor?”

There was that epithet again. He couldn’t tell whether she meant it as an insult but Raquel was impatiently waiting for him to answer and he’d have to reflect on this apparent new nickname later. “Exchanging information.”

“Wasn’t much of an exchange going on though, was there?”

“You’re welcome to ask questions.”

She scoffed. “Oh! I am? Why thank you, that really does change everything.” 

Sergio sat down, confused. This wasn’t like Raquel, and he tried to find the missing variable. His behavior was no different than usual, but her patience with him was. That was it, something was affecting her patience with him. He considered her as it slowly clicked. “You’re annoyed.”

What had appeared as an aha-moment for Sergio, clearly wasn’t one for Raquel, as she simply huffed and asked, voice laced with sarcasm. “What gave it away?”

“Why are you annoyed?”

She smiled a little too sweetly, “Because, Professor, you’re being annoying.”

What was this whole Professor business? Was that really how she viewed him? As someone who was lecturing her, not as a partner? He had quickly begun thinking of her as just that, a partner. He had let Raquel into his life, and his plan, to a far greater extent than he’d ever imagined he would. He had even begun thinking that they were in this together, and it hurt him that she evidently didn’t see it that way. 

Seeing her words had hit him unexpectedly hard, Raquel caught herself. “Shit, I’m sorry Sergio.” She sat down and covered his hand with hers. “Look, I’ve had a particularly shitty day. I’m constantly surrounded by men who are convinced that they’re smarter than me, and then I came here, and you launched into a lecture and I just…”

She didn’t tell him that Paula had called her earlier, asking if she could stay with her father and spend the weekend with him, even though she was supposed to come home on Friday. Alberto and Raquel’s sister had promised to take her to an amusement park and of course it absolutely had to happen on one of Raquel’s weekends with Paula. She’d heard the excitement in her little girl’s voice and hadn’t been able to say no, though the fact that she let Alberto win left her with a bitter, sour aftertaste.

“It’s not fair to you, and I’m sorry.” She let go of his hand. “And the whole Professor thing, is meant affectionately, truly. It’s very endearing to see you caught up in something you’re so desperate to share. But you do get carried away at times, and then it’s my duty to stop you.”

Sergio attempted to sort out what Raquel had just said, to break it down into fragments he could categorise, analyse and understand. It seemed like she didn’t mind him being the way he was, that she even enjoyed it, though he couldn’t comprehend it. He’d never had anyone react quite this way to him before. People either dismissed him, or listened attentively for a limited amount of time until they lost interest. But the way Raquel had just described him was a bit overwhelming, and he needed some time to digest it. “Why don’t we take a break then?”

Stunned, Raquel couldn’t fight the smile forming. “A break? You’re actually suggesting a break? You?”

He shrugged, trying to appear unaffected but desperately wanting to be part of turning her day around. “We could go to the cinema if you like?” At her now genuinely shocked face, he added, “We’d have to buy the tickets online and go there separately, but we could sit together in the dark…”

Amused, Raquel asked, “Like in a spy movie?”

His shoulders dropped slightly as he shook his head. “You’re right, it was a ridiculous suggestion.”

_Goddammit Raquel._

“No, no!” She shot up, far too antsy to sit, and not quite able to handle the emotions that the conversation was stirring in her. 

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been able to shake this day. That actually sounds lovely, but I need to get rid of some of this slightly,” she scrunched her face, “negative energy. Or you’ll be in for a miserable evening.”

Sergio nodded and, knowing some of her coping mechanisms by now, added “You want to go for a run?”

She craned her neck and hummed in confirmation. “You want to come?”

He shot her a disbelieving look, “Really?”

Shaking her head, she chuckled, “Hmmm… Probably best not to.”

Sergio laughed and nodded, as Raquel headed to the bathroom to get changed, grabbing her gym bag from the closet on her way. She had left workout clothes and shoes at his apartment early on in their partnership, claiming she never got around to exercise between dealing with her work, her daughter, her ex-husband, and this heist. And she had warned him when he’d initially questioned whether they could afford losing precious time, that she would implode unless she did and that that would be a particularly unpleasant experience for both of them, but especially for him. He had nervously encouraged her to by all means, leave her gym bag and exercise regularly. 

Raquel came back out, put one foot on the chair next to him and tied her shoe. “Oh, before I forget.” She switched feet to tie the other shoe, “You might have trouble with the Director of the Mint.”

“Arturo Román?”

“Yeah… Something about him doesn’t sit right with me.”

“What?”

“He’s… I don’t know. Slimy.”

“Slimy?”

“Don’t look at me that way Sergio… He’s the kind of man who thinks he reached the position he’s in because of his own brilliance. When in truth, he’s incredibly ordinary, just comes from extreme privilege and had the right connections.”

“Alright. But why is he going to be a problem.”

“I think there’s a significant gap between how he sees himself, and who he actually is. In his years as Director, he’s never made any bold decisions, but he has fired numerous staff members who’ve had the gall to question him or his authority. I know men like him, their fragile egos make them dangerous.”

“You think he’d try something?”

“Maybe, if he was pushed far enough. But I think he’s more likely to try and entice others to do so.”

“I see.” When it came to psychological profiles, he knew he didn’t hold a candle to Raquel. “What do you suggest?”

“I don’t know exactly. Just…”

Sergio cut her off, not able to resist the rare opportunity to tease her the way she’d often do to him. “You’d like it entered into the record that you think he’s slimy.”

She smiled widely, “Exactly.”

_**One year before the heist** _

It had been a particularly agonising month, when everything Sergio did or said turned her on, and she thought she might crack. Masturbating simply didn’t cut it and she craved his touch so badly she almost shivered when he would get close. She tried to convince herself that it would be fine to let go, that it was just sex, but a voice in the back of her head told her it would never be just sex between the two of them, and reminded her they’d only fairly recently gotten back to normal after the last time they’d given in to their urges. She hated that damned voice. 

As a distraction, and in a futile attempt to move on from Sergio, she’d agreed to go on a date when a friend of hers suggested it. She liked to think that she genuinely tried to give her date a chance, but she couldn’t muster up much of an interest in him and called it a night after one drink. 

One of the reasons she was preoccupied was that she had come across another potential member for Sergio’s team. She had already sent Ágata Jiménez his way for counterfeiting, and it had made him acutely uncomfortable to relinquish control over assembling his team. He had yet to confirm that he would include Jiménez, and she hadn’t broached it again. But now she had two candidates, they were perfect, and she’d be damned if she’d let him turn them down out of stubbornness. As she’d gone for the date straight from work she had the file with her, and called Sergio once she left the bar, asking if she could come over.

Opening the door, Sergio noted she was wearing lipstick, and it sent his mind spinning. He had found it particularly difficult to keep his hands off her in the past few weeks and had been painfully aware of her presence, her scent, the way she would huff when she thought he made a ridiculous declaration, or bite her lower lip and tuck her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. 

In the past year, she had seeped into his very essence and he would catch himself wondering what she would think about specific parts of the plan, or even about events that had occurred during the day. He struggled to remember his life, or his plan, before sharing it with her, and he was incapable of imagining his life after the heist without her, even though one with her was impossible, a mere illusion.

Luckily for him, Raquel was all business and quickly threw a file on the table as he let her in, “I found your IT-genius.” 

She went to pour herself a glass of water and leaned against the sink facing him, waiting for him to read the information she brought him. A whiff of cigarette smoke hit him when she blew past him.

“You smoke Raquel?”

She huffed, appearing insulted, not unlike a teenager putting on a show for their parent. “No.” 

She motioned to the file and Sergio sat down amused, opening it. “Aníbal Cortés.”

“He used to work for a security firm, is an alarms expert, and is now wanted by INTERPOL for a burglary in Geneva. He’s good enough that it’s the only crime anyone’s been able to trace back to him, but I sincerely doubt it’s the only one he’s committed.”

“He’s young.”

“Yes, he is. But he’s good, very good. And he has no history of violent crimes. He’s an IT-nerd, which is exactly what you need.”

“I’m not sure.”

She sighed. She’d suspected this was how he was going to react. He was protective and beyond stubborn when it came to his plan. While she could understand it, she was also frustrated with him in moments like these when he refused to even take in her suggestions. But she knew him well enough by now to know that she could, and would, wear him down. She just needed to push the right buttons, and demand that he give her actual arguments as to why he wouldn’t seriously consider adding Cortés and Jiménéz to the team.

She sat down. “Look. I understand your hesitance to relinquish control, but you quite frankly need to get over yourself at this point.”

Hearing her words he looked both surprised and miffed, clutching his hands in front of him and staring at them.

“We’ve been going over this together for seven months now Sergio, and I am fully invested, you know that. You know what’s at stake for me, personally and professionally, and that my main objective is to make sure everything goes according to plan and that no one gets hurt. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise the plan.” He wouldn’t look at her so she raised his chin with her hand. “Sergio? You know that, right?”

He nodded, and she continued, withdrawing her hand. 

“Good. And you also know that I have a better understanding of the psychology of human nature than you do.” He nodded again, “So how about you actually trust my judgement on this? Hmm?”

She was right, of course she was. Until he met Raquel, he wasn’t used to sharing much of anything with someone as closely as he was sharing almost every aspect of his life with her. She’d gotten him to talk about his childhood, his family, his convictions, his awkwardness in social situations, his plan. He hadn’t actively chosen to do so, she had just demanded that he let her in, gun pulled on him, refusing to play games. Though doubts did occasionally creep into his mind and he wondered whether she was ultimately going to try and stop the heist, he did trust her. And he trusted her judgement.

Unaware that she had already convinced him, Raquel continued laying down her arguments.

“Like I said, Cortés is exactly the kind of person you’re going to need in there. Someone who’s unlikely to be as trigger happy as some of the other members, and extremely unlikely to hurt any of the hostages. Now, when it comes to counterfeiting and quality control… Not only is Jiménéz incredibly good at what she does, I seriously doubt you could find anyone better, but what’s more you don’t need more testosterone in there, quite the opposite. In conclusion, she’s perfect.”

“Alright.”

Raquel’s head snapped in his direction, “Alright?”

“Alright. You’re right. They’re the best persons for the job, they’re in.”

“Oh. Ok. Good then.”

He could tell she had braced herself for an argument and didn’t quite know what to do with herself now that he’d cut it short. Appreciating one of the rare moments he rendered her speechless, Sergio had to tare his gaze away from her knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from kissing her if he kept it trailed on her much longer.

_**Ten months before the heist**_

“I can’t do this anymore Sergio, we’re going around in circles.” Raquel was pacing the apartment, hands forming a bun with her hair before releasing it in frustration.

Sergio dropped his pen and leaned back in the chair, “We need to settle it once and for all though.”

“How? When you’re refusing to see logic?”

He removed his glasses, placing them next to the pen, and rubbed his eyes. “I’m refusing to see logic?” He was tired. Tired of sharing his plan with this obstinate woman who refused to accept that he had the final say. Tired of caring so deeply of what she thought of the plan, of him. “Raquel, we have an agreement. You need to convince me of why you need access to this information.”

“I know about our agreement. But there should be a clause for when I’ve pleaded my case, yet your bullheadedness gets in the way of us moving forward!”

She plopped down onto a chair in frustration while Sergio got up and began pacing in her stead. He paused occasionally, pinching his index finger and thumb in the air, ready to launch into… something. But he would then catch Raquel’s expression and stop himself, aware he’d need stronger arguments to convince her to see things his way. 

“Ok, ok… Why don’t we go for a walk, clear our heads?”

Raquel appeared doubtful as she asked, “Together?”

“It’s dark outside, neither one of us knows anyone living in this neighbourhood. We could walk around El Retiro park.”

Raquel was used to Sergio being the overly-cautious one, and couldn’t believe he actually suggested they’d been seen in public together. They had been out together since she’d made him tell her about his plan, for walks or jogs, or that one time they went to the cinema. But they had always maintained their distance, and he was rarely the one to suggest them.

Raquel nodded and followed Sergio to the hallway, the argument continuing as they got ready to head out.

“You don’t need to know the location of the house Raquel. In fact, it’s probably better if you don’t. You know this.”

She huffed, annoyed that he was right. She didn’t need to know, but dammit she wanted to. Any information that she wasn’t privy to tugged at the small doubt she still harboured in the darkest corner of her mind. The doubt that would rear its ugly head in particularly vulnerable moments, usually when she was reminded of Sergio’s early lies, or of how utterly she’d misjudged her ex-husband.

But if she couldn’t know where the house he would sequester with his team was, she’d sure as shit find out. “I’ll find that house you know, once we get going.”

Surprised at her conviction, Sergio shook his head. “You won’t find it.”

“I will though.”

“There are no traces to it. You won’t find it Raquel.”

He opened the door for her and she walked out, stopping in front of him, head raised in defiance. “I’ll find it Sergio. There’s always a trace and you bet your ass I’ll pick up on it.” She poked him in the chest, “So you better make sure you leave that house spotless, because trust me, I _will_ find it.” 

Sergio swallowed, shrinking under her stare and determination. Maybe she had a point. He was going to have to ensure any evidence left in the house in Toledo was planted and controlled by him, just in case. He quickly returned to his notebook in the kitchen and jotted it down, catching her smirk as he came back to the hallway and closed the door behind them.

_**Nine months before the heist** _

Raquel was rummaging through his drawers, muttering curse words under her breath, when he came out of the bathroom 

“Where the fuck did I put it?”

“Raquel? What are you looking for?”

Ignoring him, she continued her search until she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at a file she had found. “Oh.”

“What?”

“This is…” She eyed him with an expression he couldn’t quite discern but most definitely worried him. “This is your file on me.”

“Oh.” _Shit._ He hadn’t looked at that file in months. He knew he would have to pick it back up eventually as he was going to update it and brief his team about Raquel, but he’d been putting it off by filing it in the back in his mind, as well as at the bottom of a drawer.

Staring at her own file, Raquel felt overwhelmed. It had been almost a year since she’d confronted him about his lies and forced him to come clean. She had slowly begun trusting him, not really realising it was happening until it was a fact that she did. She thought she’d reconciled herself with the idea of what role he had planned for her, but holding the concrete proof of it in her hand, she felt the trust for him shatter, and she was left at a loss as to what to do.

The foundation that Alberto had so meticulously broken, the one she had desperately tried to rebuild since she left him, almost one and a half years earlier, crumbled in front of her very eyes with that fucking file.

She looked at Sergio and deduced that she’d been idiot, an absolute fucking idiot. She’d let herself be duped by this man once more, and be lulled into complacency by him. Worse, she’d actually been helping him, making her at the very least an accessory to conspiracy. 

How had she allowed this to happen? What part of her was so desperate for the love and approval of sociopathic assholes that she would let herself fall into this trap not once, not twice, but three times? She was supposed to be a strong woman for the love of… She was supposed to be an example for her daughter, not a cautionary tale.

Sergio recognised the look in Raquel’s eyes as the one of fear, suspicion and hurt that had haunted him ever since he was first witness to it, catching it above the gun she had trailed on him. He’d caught glances of it since, but not in the past few months. Needing to connect with her, he walked towards her, hand extended. “Raquel.”

She backed and shook her head, blinking away tears. Sergio took a few more careful steps towards her but she flinched and moved further from him again. Eyes anxiously darting across the room, she seemed like she was evaluating her options of getting out, of getting away from him. The realisation that she was frightened, of him, hit Sergio full force. 

This was the absolute last thing he wanted her to feel towards him, he couldn’t bare her being afraid of him. Angry, frustrated, exasperated, wanting to strangle him… All those things he could deal with, work with, and had been forced to face in the past ten months of their relationship. But for her to fear him? He’d rather let his entire heist go straight to hell before he allowed that to happen. 

Sergio backed and sat down in the sofa, raising his hands to show her he wasn’t a threat. “You’re free to leave Raquel. I would never keep you here against your will.”

Raquel struggled to breath. She felt trapped, caught in the web of another man who manipulated her to get what he wanted. With Alberto, it had been literally every part of her being. With Sergio, it was her mind, and her trust. The son of a bitch enjoyed the fact that he’d managed to trick her again, after she’d held him at gunpoint, demanding nothing but the truth from him. She felt like she was drowning. In self-doubt, failure, and the utter lack of control over her own life.

But Sergio didn’t push her. He didn’t try to convince her that she was wrong, that she was being irrational. _You’re being irrational, Raquel._ She’d become allergic to that phrase in the past two years. In her personal and professional life alike. 

Hesitantly glancing over at Sergio who was sitting stiffly, hands linked in his lap, she tried her best to level her conflicted emotions towards him, with her rational mind. He had planned to use her before meeting her, yes. He had also lied to her once they actually, unexpectedly met. All of which Sergio had admitted to more or less freely, at gun point. 

She hadn’t caught him in a lie since, and now he was keeping his distance, trying to assure her that she was entirely free to leave. That he wasn’t a threat to her. Raquel sank to the floor and focused on levelling out her breathing, while Sergio remained at a safe distance. 

The fact that he had a file on her was nothing new, he had admitted she’d been one of his pawns. His queen, he’d tried to claim that one night they’d shared too much wine and had ended up in a delightfully drunken mess of limbs and late night confessions. She had huffed at his assertation, muttered “your queen” as she’d rolled her eyes but he had sworn it was the case. The queen was key to winning the game, he’d explained, and so was she. Thinking back on it now, Raquel could only focus on the fact that the queen, like all other pawns with the exception of the king, was dispensable. And this file was a very painful reminder of the fact that she too could be sacrificed should such a move allow him to win the game. Check fucking mate.

Concern was written all over Sergio’s face though, and he seemed to be waiting for her to give him a sign as to what he should do. Raquel tried to see him clearly, when a voice deep within reminded her, _Sergio is not Alberto, he is not Alberto._

He was stubborn, set in his ways, protective of his plan, an introvert, but nothing like her ex-husband. He had lied to her, yet at her very core Raquel knew the two men were profoundly different, that they shouldn’t even be compared to one another. Sergio would never intentionally hurt her, and he was currently trying to give her whatever she needed to ease her worry. 

He was not Alberto, she was not in any danger, and this file couldn’t hurt her.

With Raquel seemingly slightly less on edge, Sergio took a few tentative steps towards her again. When she didn’t stop him, he kept going and was soon at her side, crouching down.

“Can you breath?”

Raquel nodded, and he cautiously took her hand to his lap, playing with it.

“You don’t have to do this you know.” She looked at him questioningly, eyes glistening, but he kept his gaze trailed on her hand. “You have a daughter Raquel. A life, a career. You can walk away from this any time you want, make sure to be on vacation and out of the country when it’s happening. You are under no obligation to do this.”

Sergio could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Losing Raquel was the last thing he wanted, but he couldn’t bear being the reason she was under this much pressure, and clearly in a lot of pain. She let out a breath, one he assumed was of relief that he was giving her an out. She scooted closer to him, and rested her head against his shoulder.

“Thank you for saying that,” she spoke softly, “but I’m not here because of a sense of obligation. I believe in what we’re doing, I just…” She too now focused on their linked hands, hoping they might grant her some clarity. “There are things that have nothing to do with you that…” She took a few deep breaths, wanting to explain to him what she didn’t fully understand herself.

“Seeing the file brought back a lot of memories of how we started, and they got jumbled with memories of my shit of an ex-husband, of how he turned out to be someone completely different than I thought. But I’m in this Sergio, I don’t want you to doubt that.”

He squeezed her hand in relief and gratitude. “What do you want to do with the file?”

She turned and buried her nose in his shoulder, the gesture sending a shiver through him.

“What we do with everything else, we go through it together.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” She sniffed and poked him lightly, "But brace yourself, there’s a significant risk it’ll piss me off.”

He chuckled, but sitting there on the floor next to Raquel, playing with her hand, her head on his shoulder, Sergio realised that her anger he could take. It was her fear and pain he couldn’t handle.


	5. Muddled waters

_“So, they would drag you up in the early hours to look at the sunset?”_

_“Sometimes, yes.”_

_“Did you like it?”_

_“I can’t really remember. Mom says I complained a lot, but then would mumble about how pretty it was when Sergio would carry me back to bed.”_

_“Please.”_

_“Alberto, please. If you don’t want to hear this, then you should wait outside.”_

_“I’m sorry dad.”_

_“No, no, honey. It’s not your fault.”_

_“Your father’s right Paula. None of this is your fault… Let’s get back to Palawan, what else would you do on the beach?”_

_“I don’t know… Swim, look for shells or crabs, fish, play… Regular beach things.”_

_“Sounds like a pretty normal family.”_

_“I guess.”_

_“You said Mr. Marquina didn’t like getting sand everywhere, yet it sounds like you all spent quite a lot of time at the beach.”_

_“What’s your point?”_

_“No point, I’m just trying to understand your life there.”_

_[Silence]_

_“You don’t need to worry Paula, I don’t have a hidden agenda.”_

_“I doubt that.”_

_“Look. Of course we hope you’ll be able to help us find your mother and the Professor, but I imagine that hardly comes as a surprise. You already knew we’d want your help with that, didn’t you?”_

_“Yes, I did.”_

### 

“So.” 

Still on the floor next to one another, Raquel nudged Sergio as she held up the file, trying to bring herself back to normal again. “What’s in here?”

“A basic background check on you.”

“Come on Sergio, I doubt that’s all that’s in there.”

He nodded towards it, “Have a look.”

Raquel let her fingers graze over the manila folder with her name in printed letters on it, breathing deeply. She needed to know what was in it, yet couldn’t bring herself to actually opening it. What if there was something there about Alberto? Did Sergio know about what he’d put her through? And if so, how long had he known? She shook her head, he couldn’t possibly know, she hadn’t told anyone but her therapist. Unless he’d been invasively surveying her for years, which he swore he hadn’t, there was no way he could know.

She shook her head and handed him the file. “You do it.”

“Alright.”

He took the folder from her and opened it as she peered over his shoulder.

Flipping through the pages quickly, he rattled off the information on them. “Like I said, basic personal information, education history, work history, your credentials, profile photos of you, your mother, Paula, your ex-husband, your partner, a few newspaper clippings with you.”

He snapped the file shut, not wanting to linger in what clearly brought her back painful memories. 

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

Not quite believing him, she took the file, flipped through it and turned to him in surprise. “That really is it? No surveillance photos? No juicy stuff?”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t sure that you’d be put in charge, so I had only gotten to fairly basic research when we met and, well…”

Frowning, Raquel asked, “Well, what?”

He was fiddling with his fingers, eyes trailed on them, and sighed. “Raquel, there’s a reason that file is at the bottom of the drawer. It’s a painful reminder for me too of how we started, of how I lied to you for months.”

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, “I’m not particularly proud of that, quite the opposite in fact.”

“Oh.”

She handed him back the file. “Walk me through it. Properly this time.”

“You’re sure?”

She nodded, and he opened the folder again. “Alright. First, personal information. Name, date of birth, social security number, address, civil status…”

“Separated?”

“Right. At that point, that’s what you were.”

“Mmm.” Relieved that he didn’t seem to know about Alberto, not quite ready to share it with him, with anyone yet, she motioned to the folder. “Keep going.”

“No known aliases, but you did have a hit in the national criminal database.”

Raquel eyes went wide. “Oh god, I didn’t even think about that… Please tell me you don’t know what it’s about.”

“I don’t know what it’s about.”

Eyeing him, she could tell he was trying to bite back a laugh, and she slapped his shoulder, “Sergio!”

“Why are you hitting me? I am not to blame for your youthful indiscretions.”

She hid her face in her hands and groaned. “Shit. I was nineteen.”

He wasn’t used to her being embarrassed, and couldn’t help but take great pleasure in it. “I’ve been nineteen as well Raquel, and I’ve never been arrested for trespassing.” 

She huffed and squared her shoulders. “I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince: him, or herself. “Really? Because according to this, you and your partner in crime were arrested in a fairly inebriated state, and in a certain state of undress.”

She snatched the file from him, “I know fully well what state Ana and I were arrested in.” She narrowed her eyes at him before shrugging, “Like I said, I have nothing to be ashamed of. I was nineteen and it was one hell of a night… At least from what I can remember.” 

Sergio chuckled, “No regrets?”

She shook her head determinedly, “None whatsoever. Other than getting caught of course.”

“Of course.”

Sergio was still smirking in delight, and Raquel cleared her throat, “Alright, I think I can look through the rest of this on my own.”

“Are you sure Raquel, I really don’t mind doing it with you.”

She shot him a dirty look, “I bet you don’t.”

He got off the floor and held out a hand for her. She took it, he helped her to her feet and, much to his surprise, she snuck her arms around his waist and pressed herself against him. 

Not sure what came over her, Raquel breathed him in before she turned her head and rested it on his torsos. She needed to be held, to feel safe. Her past with Alberto would hit her at the most unexpected times, and it always left her raw, reeling from past abuses. This time she was both lucky and unlucky that it happened with Sergio. Unlucky because she didn’t like being this vulnerable around him. She kept getting closer to telling him about her past, and she didn’t want him to know, still didn’t want it to be true. Lucky, because her breakdown enabled her to draw strength from his genuine concern and care. As she felt his arms coming around her, enveloping her close, she released a heavy sigh and with it, let go of the last of the anxiety that had taken a hold of her when she found that file.

He held her until she let go of him with a grateful smile, letting her hand slide down his left arm and squeezing his hand before breaking the contact. 

Raquel had gone over the entirety of the file while Sergio had again reviewed the first hours of the heist, and she’d caught him occasionally nervously glancing her way. He hadn’t lied, he’d really only done a fairly basic background check on her, and he clearly hadn’t updated it in a long time. It was with immense relief that she tossed him the folder. 

“You’ll need to update it.”

Setting the folder aside, Sergio kept his eyes trailed on his notes. “I know.” He dared a glance at her, “Do you want to know when I do it, and what I include?”

She exhaled loudly, “I don’t know. One the one hand I don’t, but on the other…” She raised her hands in exasperation.

Sergio nodded, “How about I update it closer to being sequestered with the team? And let you know if I have any questions, or come across anything that might be… Uncomfortable?”

Raquel bit her lip as she thought about it, and answered him in a small voice. “Ok, yeah. That could work.” She gave him a crooked smile. “Thank you.”

Sergio shook his head, “Please don’t thank me Raquel. I hate that I have to do this.”

_**Eight months before the heist** _

Raquel sighed. It was midnight and there was no indication that this case was even close to wrapping up. So much for getting an early night and feel rested for meeting Sergio the next day. She had planned to make the most out of her weekend without Paula: a nice dinner with her mother on Friday evening, followed by a good night’s rest, planning with Sergio on Saturday, hopefully another good night’s rest after that, then she would have all of Sunday to finally be able to relax, having only a handful of errands to run.

But fate evidently had other plans as she’d been called in on a hostage situation in a supermarket during the afternoon. It appeared to be the work of two strung-out twenty-somethings, which worried Raquel. The combination of drugs and a spur of the moment hostage taking was a terrible combination: there was no telling what they’d do, and negotiating was virtually impossible. She had spoken with the two individuals they assumed were the only hostage takers and they were both on edge, paranoid, and made outrageous demands, asking for everything from a helicopter, through a full pardon, to unimaginable sums of money. 

She had texted Sergio before leaving the office to let him know she might be late the next day, or even not be able to make it at all, and that she didn’t know when she’d be able to be in touch again. It was standard procedure to turn off all cell phones when entering a hostage negotiation to be able to isolate and bug any calls the hostage takers might make, something Sergio was well familiar with and hardly needed spelled out.

She had another two or three hours before Ángel would relieve her and it’d be her time to go home to get a few hours of sleep before returning to hopefully wrap up this mess without anyone getting seriously hurt. As she craned her neck, Raquel reflected over how this situation was the exact opposite of Sergio’s heist, the only real similarity being that hostages were involved. 

She just got to speak briefly to one of the three hostages and the poor girl sounded terrified. The hostages at the Royal Mint would be terrified as well, not being privy to the fact that the gang would be under strict instructions not to hurt any of them. Them being terrified was actually a necessary part of the plan, as it would make them easier to control, at least in the beginning. Hanging up, Raquel got up to stretch and ran her hands through her hair, hearing the tremor in the girl’s voice was a solemn reminder that there would be victims to what she was helping Sergio to plan as well. They would both do what they could to ensure the hostages would remain physically unharmed, but Raquel knew the emotional turmoil they would be put through was not to be underestimated.

She was on the phone with one of the hostage-takers who was rambling about the swat team he was convinced was about to launch an assault on the store, when Ángel knocked her on the shoulder. She nodded with a tired smile as he put a headset on to listen in to the conversation. After hanging up, she briefed him on the impasse they were at, and told him she’d be back in six hours. 

It wasn’t until she was almost home and made a mental note of reaching out to Sergio after she’d gotten some sleep, that she realised she’d left the burner phone in the office, not wanting to risk leaving it out while on an operation. _Shit._ She wouldn’t get a chance to get to it before returning to the supermarket. Sergio would have to put the pieces together on his own, which she had no doubt he would, but she would’ve preferred to be in touch with him. She’d get the phone and let him know as soon as she could, but it all depended on when they’d manage to diffuse this blasted mess of a hostage situation.

Sergio was pacing the apartment. It was Saturday and he had expected Raquel four hours ago. She had texted him the previous day to say that she was working on a case which might require overtime, but he hadn’t heard anything from her since, which was unusual. 

He figured she was probably stuck working, and knew that she didn’t take the burner phone with her when she was on a case to minimise the risk of anyone accidentally coming across it and start asking questions. Her not reaching out to him most likely had a very logical explanation, but though he couldn’t pinpoint why, he was worried. He’d had a feeling at the pit of his stomach for the past hour that something was wrong, and he couldn’t shake it.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. The heist was eight months away and he should be fully focused on finalising the preparations but instead, he was preoccupied with thoughts of Raquel. The woman who had inserted herself into every aspect of his life. Fully, seamlessly, and unapologetically. 

He had turned on the police scanner to see if he could deduce which case she was working on and it had served as background noise for the past hour, without him learning much of anything of substance, other than the location she was probably at. It seemed there was a hostage situation at a supermarket in the outskirts of town, one Raquel had probably been called in to negotiate on. He was unsuccessfully trying to focus on his heist and listing the equipment they would need to bring into the Mint, when a message coming through the radio sent chills down his spine.

“Officer down.”

 _No, no, no._ It could be anyone. It wouldn’t be Raquel, it would make no sense. She was a negotiator, hardly at the frontline, she was not the one who would tend to get injured on the job. But for some reason, Sergio was convinced that it was in fact her and he waited breathlessly by the scanner, praying that his intuition was wrong. It was illogical that she be hurt, and he was a logical man after all. The milli-seconds until the second message came through felt like hours.

“Inspector Murillo has been stabbed. Send an ambulance and reinforcements to…”

The sound of the scanner tuned out. He sat stunned, trying to take in what he’d just heard. 

_Raquel. Stabbed._

This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her, not now, not like this. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. 

Eyes darting around the room, he turned off the scanner. He needed to do something, anything. He couldn’t simply sit in his apartment waiting to hear how serious her injuries were. He needed to see her. 

It was unreasonable and she would’ve scolded him for it if she’d been there, but she wasn’t there, that was the problem. And he had to see her. Sergio got out a map and quickly deduced which hospital she would be taken to given the location of the supermarket he’d snapped up from earlier radio communications, and rushed out.

He headed straight to the emergencies where he found a flurry of activities and soon identified Raquel’s partner, deputy Inspector Rubio, in the waiting area. Positioning himself close to the man, Sergio tried to take solace in the fact that the deputy appeared rattled, but not alarmed. At least that meant she wasn’t seriously injured. About thirty minutes later, he saw Raquel’s mother rush in, and she was soon approached by the deputy.

“Mariví.”

Raquel’s mother turned to him, and Sergio could see the concern and stress written on her face. “Ángel, how is she?”

The deputy led her to sit, “She’s fine, don’t worry. They’re stitching her up, but the doctors have told me she’s going to be just fine. It was a deep cut, but she didn’t lose too much blood, and it didn’t hit any vital nerves.”

Mariví let out a relieved breath, “How the hell did this happen Ángel? Where were you?”

This was exactly what Sergio had been wondering as well, but something about the way Raquel’s mother stared down the Deputy made Sergio smile. He recognised the squirming it caused, and now realised just where Raquel had gotten her abilities from. 

“I was interviewing one of the hostages, you know we divide the labour. Look, they won’t let me see her since I’m not family, but I’m sure they’ll let you in. Tell her I said hi, and that I’m right here if any of you need me.”

Raquel’s mother nodded and left Rubio behind as she was let into the emergency room. She came back out an hour later, accompanied by a weary looking Raquel. Rubio jumped to his feet to greet her, and it took everything Sergio had not to do the same, to envelop her in his arms to make sure that she was real, that she was still there. 

Looking around the room with drowsy eyes, Raquel caught sight of Sergio and smiled at him with a soft, tired look before she was led out by her mother and Rubio.

His phone rang later that night, and he jumped to answer it. “Raquel. How are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

She sighed. “A rookie cop half-assed the strip search of one of the suspects as they finally surrendered. They hadn’t cuffed him yet but we needed confirmation that all of the hostages had been freed so I began questioning him on the spot. It only took a second, but he managed to get out of the officer’s grip and get his knife out.” She huffed, “He was high on something and somehow figured stabbing an officer would be a smart thing to do. He’s definitely going to regret that choice whenever he sobers up.”

She paused slightly. “Anyways, he caught my arm and luckily didn’t hit any arteries or big nerves so I should make a full recovery.” She hissed in pain, “Hurts like hell though.”

“They didn’t give you any good painkillers?”

“They wanted to, but I couldn’t risk being hopped up on pills. God only knows what I would’ve started telling people.”

A pang of guilt came over Sergio. She was in more pain than she needed to be because of what she knew about him.

As if reading his mind, Raquel added. “It’s not your fault Sergio, and the pain is manageable. Truly.”

Neither spoke for a while, both content with just being able to hear the other’s breathing. 

“Thank you for coming to the hospital.”

“I needed to see for myself that you were alright… You are, right? Your’re alright?”

“I’m fine Sergio. I’ve been ordered to rest and keep an eye on the wound to avoid an infection, but I’m fine.” She paused slightly before adding, “Really, I am.”

“Ok, ok. Good. That’s good.”

Raquel smiled at the concern laced in his voice. She could picture him nodding to himself, willing himself to believe her. Catching his eye in the waiting room had brought a sense of calm over her. He cared for her as she did for him; genuinely. It wasn’t just about protecting his plan anymore. The man who had devoted his entire life to one plan had risked everything to rush to her side, even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to be at her actual side. The realisation made the magnitude of her feelings for him wash over Raquel, but she brushed them off as being amplified by the adrenaline, the pain, and the shock of having been attacked. 

Seeing him at the hospital had truly touched her, and the small, relieved smile he had granted her had given her the strength to withstand the substantial amount of pain she was in, as well as dealing with Ángel’s guilt and her mother’s concern. It had also made her desperate to talk to him, and reminded her that the burner phone was still in the office. So she had insisted she needed to stop by the office on her way home to pick up some things she’d left there. Both Ángel and her mother had protested profusely, but she’d refused to budge. 

She’d caught the concern in Sergio’s face, and knew he’d thrown caution to the wind by coming to the hospital. Calling was the least she could do. Besides, with the adrenaline having worn off, she realised she’d gotten quite the scare, and wanted to talk to him. 

She hadn’t really began unpacking the fact that she had indeed been attacked, and how lucky she had been to walk out of it fairly unscathed. But Sergio’s concern reminded her that it could’ve gone a lot, lot worse. The soothing effect that his voice had on her now made her reflect briefly on what had grown into a profound friendship. She depended on him, trusted him, enjoyed his company, even when he drove her up the walls. She was still attracted to him and at times struggled keeping her hands off him, but her desire for him didn’t dominate their relationship, and wasn’t the reason she’d called. She had just wanted to talk to her friend, needed to talk to him.

There was so much Sergio wanted to tell her. That she’d given him the fright of his life, and that where he once couldn’t have imagined sharing his plan with anyone other than his brother, he now couldn’t imagine it without her in it, at his side. He wanted to tell her that he still couldn’t believe she’d decided to stay that night she’d confronted him, that she allowed him to be in her life, that he was honoured that she trusted him. But above all he wanted to let her know just how much he enjoyed laughing with her, arguing with her, and those small moments where he could, for once in his life, just be. 

But he couldn’t. A fright such as the one he’d experienced, while augmenting emotions and being likely to trigger grand declarations and spur of the moment decisions, did not change anything. He had still lied to her and abused her trust, he was still a robber in the making, and she was still likely to be the Inspector in charge of stopping him. So, he shoved his feelings aside.

“Does Paula know what happened?”

“No, not yet. She was with Alberto and I just don’t have it in me to call him. And she’s so young. I don’t want to scare her. I can’t have her worry about me every time I go to work. I don’t know that I should tell her to be honest.”

Sergio thought back to the way his parents had attempted to hide his mother’s illness from him as a child. Of course there was no way of telling how knowing about his mother might have affected him, but he couldn’t imagine it being any worse than being painfully aware something was terribly off yet not told what was happening. His father had attempted the same approach when Sergio was hospitalised with an unknown disease. He had eventually convinced Andrés that he had a right to know, and between the two of them they’d managed to convince their father. He was convinced keeping the truth from children was not in their best interest.

“She’ll probably notice something is off either way though, children can be quite perceptive.”

“Mmmm, you’re probably right. But I won’t tell her over the phone, I’ll wait until she’s back home and I can explain everything.”

“Right, right. But you spoke to her tonight?”

Paula was the light of Raquel’s life, and she’d shared many stories about her with him since they met. She’d shared them freely when they were dating, but had stopped after he’d admitted to lying to her. Once Raquel gradually started sharing small stories of Paula with him again, as well as her worry about the effect her divorce would have on the girl, Sergio had felt a for him baffling relief, and thrill. He enjoyed the stories, but he particularly enjoyed the way Raquel’s face would light up every time she spoke of her daughter.

“I did, yeah. She told me about a game of kick the bucket that had gotten out of hand, and she asked me if it ever was okay to cheat.”

“What did you tell her?”

“I wanted to tell her that it’s perfectly fine to cheat when you’re playing with rat bastards, but I’m not sure she’s ready for that truth quite yet.”

Sergio chuckled, “Right, better wait until she’s at least seven or eight.”

“Exactly.”

“And your mother? I’m surprised she lets you out of her sight long enough to call me.”

“She didn’t, she thinks I went to bed.”

“Ah, I see.”

Not ready to hang up quite yet, Raquel asked, “Tell me what you did today?”

He had spent the better part of the day worrying about her, unable to focus on much of anything. “Not much.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t let you know I wouldn’t make it.”

“No, no, I understand.”

“Are you all set for going to Italy to see your brother tomorrow?”

“No, I decided to cancel it.”

She hissed in pain, “How come?”

“Are you sure you’re fine?”

“It’s just pain Sergio, it’ll pass.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?”

“I hope so. I took some stronger aspirin just before calling you, I’m hoping they’ll do the trick.”

“Ok, good.”

He remained silent, and Raquel brought him back to her question. “Sergio?” He hummed in reply, “The trip to Italy? How come you cancelled it?”

“Oh.” He had called Andrés on his way to the hospital to let him know he wouldn’t be able to make it. While there was probably nothing he could do for Raquel, he was not going to leave the country when his partner had just been injured. He couldn’t. If Raquel found out concern for her was the reason he’d cancelled his trip, she’d no doubt insist she was fine and that he should go. But he didn’t want to leave her, and convinced himself this was the one time it was acceptable for him to lie to her, knowing full well she’d have his balls if she ever found out.

“He’s still insisting on the other plan.”

“The one you won’t tell me about…”

“It’s not my plan to share, Raquel.”

“I know, I know….” She had tried coaxing it out of him on more than one occasion, but Sergio refused to give her even as much as a hint. “So?” 

“I just don’t want to spend several days on that plan, not when we still have a lot to do here.”

“We’ve made good progress though.”

“We have, but there’s still a lot to cover.”

“Like what?”

“We don’t need to talk about it now, you need to rest.”

“What I need, is to be distracted.”

“Alright. Well, as you’ve pointed out… What if something happens on the inside, leading to one of the gang members to get arrested while the heist is still ongoing.”

“It’s a distinct possibility. Emotions are going to be running high, and they’re going to lose their shit sooner or later.”

He chuckled at her eloquentness. “Right. Which is exactly why we need plans in place, other than just training them to withstand the police attempts at getting them to cooperate. Plans to get them out of police custody.”

She smiled, “Sergio, I can hear the wheels in your head turning from here, you’ve already started, haven’t you?”

He began telling her about his ideas on when, and how, to liberate any team member who might have gotten arrested during the heist, but soon realised she’d fallen asleep. Grateful that the pain wasn’t preventing her from getting some rest, he stayed on the line a while longer, content in listening to her breath, grateful that she was still there.

_**Seven months before the heist** _

In the year and a half he’d gotten to know Raquel, Sergio had made several observations. She was a force of nature, impatient, had a temper, was competitive, fought for what she believed in, and bounced back from adversities with impressive rigour. She had quickly recovered from her wounds, and seemed less affected by the attack than Sergio was. He had fretted over her for weeks afterwards. She’d humoured him at first, understanding he needed to make sure that she was fine. But now, she had clearly tired of his overprotectiveness. 

He had just tried to keep her from filling a pitcher with water, and had taken it from her, when she exclaimed, “Sergio, enough!”

He flinched at the harshness of her tone and turned to her in confusion and surprise.

“I’m not a porcelain doll, I don’t break unless I’m handled delicately.”

“I know that, I just…”

Her voice softened, but her stance remained determined. “Look. You’ve been very sweet, but my arm has healed, I’ve been to therapy to deal with the shock and possible trauma, and now I just want things to get back to normal.”

She stared him down, holding out her hand for him to give her back the pitcher but as he hesitated, added, “If you’re unable to do that, then perhaps _you_ need to go to therapy to talk about _your_ trauma.”

He handed the pitcher to a smirking Raquel, muttering, “Alright, alright.” He couldn’t quite believe that this was the same woman who a few days after having been attacked, asked him to change the dressing for her.

_“My mother headed out this morning before she had a chance to do it. If you don’t mind, I could use a hand?”_

_“Of course.”_

_She got the bandages, a cotton swab and antibiotic ointment out from her bag, prepared a bowl with hot water and sat at the kitchen table. She removed her sweater and Sergio swallowed hard at the sight of her in a black camisole, reminded of all the times he had removed it, pulling it over her head between kisses, in the days when they were still dating. He washed his hands and pulled up a chair next to her._

_She hissed as he began removing the bandage, “Sorry.”_

_She shook her head and attempted a comforting smile, “Don’t worry, it’s fine. Keep going.”_

_He carefully removed the bandage and at the sight of the still fresh wound mentally cursed the stoned guy who’d done this, as well as the rookie cop and Ángel, who had in his mind both failed to protect her and were partially to be blamed. He knew better than to say it out loud though. He had tried once and Raquel had in no uncertain terms informed him that the only person to be blamed, was the person who stabbed her._

_She handed him the swab, he immersed it in the warm water and rinsed it out. He looked at her questioningly before bringing it to the wound, and at her small nod carefully began cleaning it. She winced at the initial contact but as he ever so gently kept going, Raquel was overcome with the quietness of the moment._

_No personal relationship, her ass. This was one of the most intimate moments she’d ever shared with a man._

_His voice broke her out of her revery, “Do you think it’ll leave a scar?”_

_“Probably, but I guess that depends on how good of a job they did stitching me up.”_

_“Hmm…” As he was fully focused on the task at hand, Raquel was surprised when he hesitantly spoke again. “Can I ask you something?”_

_“Sure.” Eyes trailed on her arm, he didn’t elaborate further and she brought up her free hand to briefly graze his neck, “Sergio?”_

_He took a deep breath. “Your scar. How did you get it?”_

_She frowned, “My scar?”_

_He nodded, dipping the cloth in water, wringing it out and continuing tending to her wound, his gaze never shifting to her. “The one on your knee.”_

_He had memorised every part of her body, and had been wondering about that scar ever since he first discovered it, about one month into their relationship. He hadn’t asked her about it as it felt too private, and he didn’t think he had a right to know the scar was even there, given that he was lying to her about who he was. Once the lies stopped, he no longer had a right to ask about her body, and he had thus filed the knowledge to the back of his mind, trying his darndest to keep it there. But now, he couldn’t help himself._

_“Oh.”_

_So that’s why he was avoiding eye contact, he must have noticed the scar in their first months together and didn’t want to remind her that they knew one another intimately, that he knew her body intimately. As if she could possibly forget… Eyeing him tenderly, she wondered why he hadn’t brought it up at the time._

_“I fell from a tree.”_

_He smiled, intrigued. “How old were you?”_

_“Seven.”_

_“And why did you fall? Did you not know how to climb a tree?”_

_She huffed. “I wanted to reach the highest branch, beat the other kids.”_

_“How come?”_

_“What do you mean how come? To win obviously. And to beat the boys.”_

_“Ah. And did you?”_

_“I sure did.”_

_“Before you fell.”_

_“I didn’t fall, the branch snapped and took me down with it.”_

_He chuckled, not tearing his gaze away from her wound, “And what happened?”_

_“I broke my arm, sliced up my knee and got grounded.”_

_“Was it worth it?”_

_“Oh, definitely. Everyone was mightily impressed when I got back to school, particularly the boys.”_

_“I can imagine.”_

_She eyed him gratefully as he remained fully focused on tending to her wounds, and she wondered what exactly they were to each other. There were no words that seemed sufficient to describe just how connected she felt to him in that moment. Every touch was considerate, careful and meticulous. He hadn’t looked up once as she recounted the story he’d asked to hear, which endeared him to her even more._

_Having cleaned the wound, Sergio applied a thin layer of the ointment, shot her an apologising look as she hissed at the contact, and reapplied a bandage. She thanked him and desperately wanted to kiss him. She was just about to throw caution to the wind and give in to the urge, when he got up and begun clearing the table. Disappointed, Raquel tried to tell herself that it was for the best. They were good the way they were, now was not the time to risk it, not with the heist creeping ever closer._

Finally getting Sergio to hand over the pitcher, Raquel wasn’t quite ready to get back to work. She picked up her briefcase and went over to his record player, shooting him back a mischievous grin. Eyes wide and biting her lip in excitement, she pulled out an LP and put in on the platter. She loved the sound of record players and had enjoyed Sergio’s classical music, but she’d found this record scouring a flea-market with Paula and her mother the weekend before, and she hadn’t been able to help herself. 

“Will you bring this with you? The record player?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, to the house with your team, or to that hangar of yours.”

“I’ll probably bring it to the hangar, it’ll be a good distraction.”

“Mmmm… How do you feel about Van Morrison?”

“Van Morrison?”

She smiled knowingly, he was stalling, and getting nervous. “Yes, Van Morrison. Surely even a classical music snob such as yourself can appreciate something at least slightly more modern?”

Catching his terrified expression, she laughed. “For god’s sake Sergio, relax. I’m not going to force you to dance. I just want to listen to this record, old school.”

“Old school?”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but a record player is most definitely considered old school… Or hipster I guess. But you don’t strike me as a hipster.” She tapped her finger against her lip, “Although you are really into artisanal cider.”

Instantly nervous at the mention of the lies he’d employed while he was posing as Salva, Sergio relaxed as he caught Raquel grinning at him. 

She placed the record with the A side up and carefully positioned the tonearm onto it. Sergio caught the pure thrill spreading through her body as the first notes reverberated through the room. He envied this ability of hers to simply let her senses take over. He’d never seen the point in it, had even considered it a sign of weakness, until he’d met her. The only times he’d ever been able to do it had been with Raquel, her lips on his, his desire for her finally drowning out all his thoughts. 

But she, she could let smallest things bring her the most genuine joy, and he loved being witness to it happening. As she currently appeared unaware of his gaze on her, wrapped up in the music and singing along, he allowed himself a rare opportunity to simply take in the sight of Raquel, as she swayed along to the tunes of a song he didn’t know. 

Raquel smiled widely, “Oh yes, this is how this record is meant to be listened to.”

When the song ended, she turned the volume down and joined him at the table. She picked up a file she was meant to review for the umpteenth time, when a thought struck her.

“By the way, how did things go with Andrés?”

Sergio had been to Italy to visit his brother again. Raquel vaguely hoped that de Fonollosa would stick to this other plan he was concocting with a friend of his, whatever it entailed. She had a very bad feeling about that man, but Sergio was adamant about his brother’s role in the heist. He knew she had reservations about him and she wasn’t looking for a fight on the topic, so she’d tried to keep a levelled voice asking about him.

“They went well.”

“So, he’s in?”

“Yes, he is. He’ll arrive in Madrid in a little less than two months, just in time for gathering the team.”

“Right. And?”

“And what?”

“Was it good seeing your brother? Did you have fun?”

Sergio laughed and removed his glasses, cleaning them. “It’s always good seeing Andrés, but I wouldn’t say we had fun.”

“Really?”

“No, we met on business.”

“Right. No personal questions, no personal relationships… The no names one doesn’t apply though.”

“You wouldn’t be mocking the rules of engagement, would you Raquel?”

Pursing her lips, she shook her head, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

He had told her about his rules about two months into their partnership, and her jaw had dropped upon hearing them. She had informed him in no uncertain terms that she found them beyond ridiculous, impossible to live up to or monitor, and potentially problematic. If the members didn’t know one another, they wouldn’t be likely to be loyal to each other, nor the team. It was exactly the point he was hoping she’d make so that he could counter with his argument that firstly, he didn’t need nor wanted them to be loyal to each other, only to the plan, and to him. And secondly, if they didn’t know much about the other teammates, including him, then they couldn’t give them up to the police, i.e. her. She had rolled her eyes at his clearly overly rehearsed point and had muttered a warning that it wasn’t going to work, that personal relationships most definitely would be formed. 

She argued that while his rules may be brilliant in theory, they would quickly prove to be magnificently flawed in practice.

His rules would regularly come up in their planning sessions but Raquel left them be, recognising she’d never win that particular battle and thus contended herself to not so occasionally tease him for their very existence, which she maintained was an absurdity. 

_**Six months before the heist** _

“Sergio, you cannot be serious about this!”

“I absolutely am.”

“No. I refuse to believe that I am planning the biggest heist of the history of the country, with a man who is too stubborn and set in his ways to acknowledge that modern music can be brilliant.”

“Well, unlike some people, I have good sense, and good taste.”

Laughing, Raquel waved him off. “Alright, alright, we need to finish this. Stop distracting me.”

“I’m distracting you?”

“Yes, you are. You’re distracting me with your nonsense.”

“I do not engage in nonsense Raquel, you should know that by now.”

“No, you _think_ you don’t engage in nonsense but believe me, you’re far less reasonable than you think you are.”

Sergio’s mouth flew open but Raquel didn’t give him the chance to counter.

“Honestly, your level of self-awareness is that of a five-year old. I should know, I have one at home.”

“What? Raquel…”

“I told you to stop distracting me. Here”, she slid over a folder to him, “what do you think about this?”

As Sergio looked over the folder, Raquel briefly reflected on how these moments with Sergio provided her with a welcome relief from her messy life. She took great pleasure in teasing him, causing his eyes to grow wide and him to puff in consternation. By far her favourite part though, was when she managed to quickly switch the subject on him after she’d teased him. She could practically see his mind imploding as it continued debating with her internally, while needing to focus on the factual aspects of the plan she had switched to. It worked like a charm; she could always distract him with his plan.

“You’re concerned about the first night?”

“Yes. The CNI are going to try to get in, and there won’t be anything I can do to stop them. My bet is they won’t even tell me that Alison Parker is among the hostages. They’ll quickly know that you have her though, and while keeping the British Ambassador’s daughter hostage will be a bargaining chip for you in the long run, in those first hours, it’s going to be a liability. They’re going to want to try to deal with the situation as quickly as possible, before the Brits get involved, so they’re going to try to get in.”

“Mmm, I see.” Sergio reached for his notebook “Do you have the..?”

“Oh, I saw them before.” She got up and looked around, “Where the hell did I… Ah! Here they are.” She handed him the site maps of the Royal Mint and stretched her arms above her head. “Coffee?”

“Please.” He unfolded the plans and stood to get a better view, while Raquel was preparing the coffee. “How do you think they’ll try to get in?”

“Impossible to say. They could blast through the front door, crawl through the ventilation system, try to access the building through the docks. We won’t know until whoever’s in charge, probably Suárez, decides. And I won’t be able to warn you once it’s going down so you’ll have to watch closely for any activity and have your team ready to react quickly.” 

The coffee now on the stove, Raquel got out two cups and set them on the counter. “Do you have anything sweet?”

“Hm? No, sorry. Do you want me to go out and get you something?”

She sighed, “No, it’s fine. Coffee will do.”

“There are apples if you want”, Sergio offered, knowing full well she thought it a personal insult to be offered fruit when she craved sweets.

“Urgh, an apple. With coffee. I’d rather drink bleach.”

Sergio chuckled before returned his attention to the possible entry points to the Mint. “What would stop them?”

“What?”

“From coming in, what would stop the special forces?”

She was leaning against the counter, turning down the flame as the coffee began to gurgle. “Umm… Hostages at risk. Or knowing that they had no way of launching a successful assault.”

“Maybe we can mix the two, and use it as an opportunity to make a statement.”

She poured them each a cup and brought them to the table, then sat down.

“What kind of statement?”

“That they have no idea what they’re up against.”

She smirked. She found it nearly impossible to resist him when he was like this; calmly excited about his plan, his eyes sparkling and seeking out her gaze. She had managed to keep her hands off him since that one slip-up, but it was still painfully difficult at times like these. She nodded and took a sip of her coffee, “Show them the Dalís.”

“What?”

“This could be the time to show them they have no way of telling hostages apart from your team… And to show them that you’re armed to the teeth.”

Smiling, he nodded. “That could work. Yes, that’s very good.”

Sergio added sugar to his coffee and was stirring the dark liquid, when Raquel snatched his notebook from him, flipping through the pages and jolting down notes here and there. The first time she’d done it, written in his notebook, he had frozen and hadn’t know how to act. It was his notebook, no one else ever read it, let alone added to it. But if she’d noticed his discomfort, Raquel had ignored it. She had handed it back to him nonchalantly, and Sergio had spent a good portion of that night trying to gauge how he felt about it. 

He had always worked best on his own, found other people to be a distraction at best, a nuisance at worst. But while Raquel certainly was a distraction at times, particularly when she leaned close to him and her breasts would graze his shoulder, she constantly challenged him and he was always eager to hear more of her thoughts. Even when she was teasing him mercilessly. 

He eyed her thankfully while taking a sip of his coffee. “I know what you’re doing you know.”

She didn’t look up. “What am I doing?”

“Whenever you’ve baited me but don’t want a debate about it, you dangle the plan in front of me like a carrot to change the subject.”

Still focused on the notebook and biting her pen, Sergio could tell she was holding back a grin.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Does it work every time?”

She finally looked up with an amused expression, and pursed her lips as she nodded, “Yup.”

“Oh.” 

What had this woman done to him?

_**Five months before the heist at the Royal Mint** _

Just a few days before Sergio was getting ready to isolate himself with his team in a location unknown to Raquel, she was over for the final time and they had been arguing over one of the team members. Silene Oliveira had just been involved in a robbery that had left her boyfriend dead, and her guilty of fatally shooting a security guard.

Raquel had had her doubts about Oliveira since the beginning, insisting she couldn’t be trusted not to attempt to contact her boyfriend, and that she was too unpredictable. Useful, yes, but highly unpredictable and unlikely to be controlled. Sergio insisted that they needed someone like her in there, someone who would react, act on instinct, and that with the proper preparations she could be trained into becoming a team player and putting the plan first. Still doubting the choice, Raquel couldn’t deny that he had a point and furthermore realised he was not about to relent, so she eventually dropped the matter.

But there was one more member which caused her concern, even more so than the last minute addition of the digger Ramós’ hot-headed son Daniel, whom they’d argued over a few weeks prior. She took a deep breath. Dreading the conversation, she’d been putting it off.

“Sergio, we need to talk about your brother.”

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. They had been at it for hours and they were both tired. Tired of planning, tired of arguing, and tired of each other. They both knew the other’s arguments by heart by now, having spent over a year twisting and turning them in order to get their points across. It was usually thrilling, but the heist was getting closer, they were about to separate, and their nerves were starting to get the better of them.

He sighed, “What about my brother.”

“Are you sure that he…”

He cut her off. She’d broached the subject with him before and he knew she had doubts, but she needed to trust him. She didn’t know Andrés, he did, she had to accept that he was going to be in charge of the team on the inside. 

“Raquel, you only know what you’ve read. He’s my brother, I know him. I trust him. He’s not going to let me down. He may have many flaws but he’s a good man.”

 _That’s just it_ , Raquel thought, she wasn’t sure that he was a good man. But they’d both had to make compromises in the past year, and this was one fight she knew she couldn’t win. She nodded but must’ve looked unconvinced, as Sergio continued.

“Look. It’s pertinent that we continue to trust each other going forward. Things are going to happen, inside the Mint, in the tent too. We might both have to make decisions that the other wasn’t expecting, and wouldn’t necessarily approve of.”

While they’d gone over most elements of the plan in detail, there were specifics that Raquel didn’t know. This not only ensured her actions for the police would be more credible, but would also grant her plausible deniability and make her immune to any attempts at using her life, her daughter or her career against her in order to get her to reveal Sergio’s whereabouts. She wouldn’t be able to give up what she didn’t know.

“Even when we have doubts, we need to trust each other implicitly.”

She took his hand and squeezed it gently, “I know Sergio. I know.”

Overwhelmed by one of the last moments she might spend with him, Raquel retreated to familiar territory for them both: the plan.

“Are you excited to meet your team?”

Sergio pushed up his glasses as she let go of his hand, and leaned back in his chair, chuckling. He clasped his hands and let his gaze rest on them.

“I’m not certain excited is the right word to describe it, but I’m ready to get started.”

Raquel made the most of the opportunity of him staring at his linked hands to consider him affectionately. He had told her about his social anxieties and his, as he put it, inability to connect with others, to react as was expected in society. It would surprise her given how at ease she felt with him, and how he rarely ever seemed genuinely uncomfortable around her. Endearingly nervous, yes, but rarely at a loss for words for long, never truly seeming like he wanted to get away from her.

Lost in thought, Raquel knocked over the glass she was reaching for, her sweater getting soaked in the process. As she removed it and hung it over a chair to let it dry, Sergio caught sight of the surgical tape she still wore over her stab wound to keep the scarring to a minimum. A painful reminder that he could have lost her, it further made it impossible for him to set aside the anxiousness over the fact that this might very well be the last moment they shared. 

They’d spent over a year and a half together, first as lovers, then meticulously going over every aspect of the plan. And now it was all over. He was sequestering with his team, while she would carry on with her life, and they would only meet again as opponents, five months from now, negotiating over the phone.

From now on, they were to have no contact. He needed to focus on building and training his team, she on keeping up pretences, and neither could risk raising suspicions while sneaking off making obscure phone calls on secret burner phones, or even less for clandestine meetings. And as much as they’d individually tried, neither Sergio nor Raquel had managed to come up with rational reasons why they should be in touch in the coming months. And with rationality supposedly forming the basis of their partnership, they had both reluctantly accepted that no contact was the only reasonable way forward.

They hadn’t decided how much, or if any, contact they were going to have once the heist got underway. They had a vague plan, a small opening left for them to cling to when the thought of this being it was overwhelming. But it was a vague plan, and it did nothing to alleviate the weight of the evening.

It was time for her to leave. They’d both been putting it off, unnecessarily going over details they already knew the ins and out of by heart. The irritability that had surrounded them all day dissipating, an awareness of irreversible endings replaced it. They had created their own little universe in the year that they had worked together, and it had represented a refuge for them both. For her, an opportunity for exhilarating intellectual exchanges, as well as one of the few times she could genuinely set her worries aside for a few blissful hours. For him, an escape from his usually preferred state of solitude, and a quality control which further increased his trust in the plan. 

She closed his notebook, and let her fingers run over it one last time. She took a deep breath and slid it over to him with a small smile.

“I should go.”

He swallowed hard as he nodded. He didn’t want her to go, wasn’t ready for it. If he could only have a few more weeks, maybe a month with her… Her hand came to cover his and the heat radiating from her brought him back to the present and the unavoidable fact that they didn’t have another month, another week, or even just one more day. That they were fresh out of hours as well.

When Sergio eventually looked at her, Raquel was hit by such an array of emotions that it took everything she had not to crawl into his lap, focus only on the warmth of his hands as they would snake around to rest on her lower back, and argue that they could find a way to truly do this together, that they could form the ultimate crime fighting – crime making duo. Apparent adversaries at day, lovers at night. 

She internally laughed at the absurdity of it. Their current plan and the state of her life were already ludicrous enough, she couldn’t add a teenage fantasy of star-crossed lovers to the mix. This suddenly irresistible idea of them being together through, and after, the heist was undoubtedly due to her heightened emotions: they were going to part ways after having shared almost everything in the past year. Good times and bad, fights, laughs, boring moments, thrilling ones, and the mundane in between…

 _Fuck!_ Why did she always, always, try to convince herself their relationship was easy to categorise, when it was clearly anything but? 

Raquel tried imagining the supposed best-case scenario. The heist would have gone well, no one would’ve gotten hurt, the people of Spain would’ve risen, Sergio and his team would’ve gotten away unscathed, and she…. She what exactly? Would climb a notch up the career latter, continue fighting her ex-husband for custody of Paula, and would forget all about the year and a half she spent with Sergio? He would no longer be in her life after the heist would wrap, of that she had no doubt, and she tried very hard to ignore the pang of regret that knowledge would shoot through her. 

They were partners, planning the perfect crime. She was going to have to rely on the decision she made a year ago, one which she had over and over again come back to since: they were associates, partners. The rest was what it was: undefinable, inexplicable, impossible. 

They had wrapped the planning phase, it was time to move on to the next phase, and she had to leave.

Raquel let go of his hand and got up. Gathering her things and heading to the hall, she took in the apartment where she’d spent so much time in the past year, and wouldn’t come back to. Once Sergio would leave this place in just a few days’ time, he’d clean it thoroughly and leave no trace of either one of them ever stepping foot there. 

He followed her to the hall, she put her shoes on, then got the burner phone out of her purse and handed it to him.

“You’ll get rid of it?”

He accepted it with a nod, their fingers briefly grazing as the air around them grew heavy. They found themselves facing each other, unwilling to part ways just yet, though both were aware they were merely postponing the inevitable. Raquel eventually sighed, put a hand on his chest, leaned up and kissed his cheek. As much as she wanted to linger there, close to him, she knew the longer she did, the more her resolve would weaken. They had both made their decisions about the nature of their relationship over a year ago, there was no longer any point in dragging it out. 

They’d reached the end of the road. 

She but stood back down and let her hand slide off his chest. He caught it, giving it a small squeeze as she smiled regretfully, and walked out.

She took a few steps then turned to him, winking. “I’ll talk to you in five months, Professor.”

Chuckling, Sergio nodded and nudged his glasses. Once she was out of view, he went back inside and closed the door, the flat now seeming impossibly empty.


	6. Before the storm

_“Right. Whether you help us or not is completely up to you, but right now, like I said, I just want to hear more about your life.”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Ok. Why don’t you tell us a little bit about your life there, in Palawan. What would a normal weekend look like for you?”_

_“Uhm… I would help my grandmother make breakfast, we would eat breakfast. Then maybe go on a hike, or take the boat out to explore the archipelago.”_

_“You had a boat?”_

_“An old one, yes. But it was fine. I liked it.”_

_“Who would drive the boat?”_

_“Either my mom or Sergio. If it was Sergio, he would let me help.”_

_“He taught you how to drive a boat?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“A seven-year-old? Great.”_

_“Alberto, please.”_

_“It wasn’t a big deal dad, he didn’t let me drive it by myself, I just got to help him do it.”_

_“Did Mr. Marquina teach you anything else?”_

_“Well, to navigate obviously. He wouldn’t teach me how to drive a boat without knowing how to navigate. “It wouldn’t be prudent, Paula.””_

_“Is that something he would say to you?”_

_“What?”_

_“That it wouldn’t be prudent. You used a voice to imitate him, so I wonder if it’s something he would often tell you.”_

_[Silence]_

_“It sounds like he cared quite a bit for you.”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_“I don’t want to talk about Palawan anymore.”_

### 

_**Five months before the heist** _

He had gathered his team at the estate in Toledo, and things were well and truly underway. While Sergio was still planning with Raquel, it seemed this day would never come, but they had now parted ways, she was back in Madrid, carrying on with her life, and he was in Toledo with a group of strangers and a plan to convey.

He had finally updated the file on Raquel in the evening after she left his apartment and the few days before he vacated it, not having been able to bring himself to doing it before. Nothing unexpected showed up: glowing recommendations from supervisors and peers alike, a spotless record, a reputation for having integrity, keeping a cool head and achieving results. The only negative aspect that would come up, was that she supposedly had a problem with authority and following orders. Reading that had brought a smile to his face; he had first-hand experience with the fact that it was impossible to control Raquel, or to tell her what to do. She could play the game up to a certain point, but ultimately, she was going to go her own way.

The information confirmed what he’d suspected before he met her, and which had been reaffirmed through their time together: she was the perfect person to be in charge of trying to stop him. Sergio briefly considered what it would’ve been like had they not run into each other a year and a half earlier, but rather only once the heist had begun. He wasn’t entirely convinced she wouldn’t have bested him.

His research showing that she was an excellent shot, sent chills through Sergio as he remembered the time she had her gun trailed on him. He hadn’t doubted she was capable of shooting him in that moment, but now he also knew she was more than equipped to hit her intended target, and he prayed he’d never be at the receiving end of that particular wrath again. 

It was the personal information that made him uncomfortable though. Her divorce and subsequent shared custody. Looking only on paper, one would assume it had been an amicable divorce, but from what little Raquel had divulged about it, he knew it had been anything but. While never going into details, she’d implied on more than one occasion that she was still heeling from that relationship. 

She’d had a rich social life, but it had steadily declined after she married her ex-husband and particularly after giving birth to Paula, which Sergio assumed was a normal development but surprised him nonetheless. On the nights she wasn’t with him, he always assumed she was out living her real life. He hadn’t reflected over the fact that she had been able to spend one or two, at times even three, evenings per week with him for the past year and a half. That between that, her daughter, and her work, there couldn’t have been much time left for anything else. He had a feeling that there was something more there, a reason unknown to him why Raquel’s social life wasn’t as active as it had once been, but his research failed to shine any light on that hunch.

Sergio tried to redirect his thoughts. He’d only bid her farewell a few days prior, he could not spend the coming five months thinking of her, he needed to focus. He made a mental note of telling Raquel that Silene Oliveira had pointed a gun at his balls when he tried recruiting her, thinking she’d get a kick out of it, then shook his head. There she was again, Raquel. He didn’t even know if he would ever see her again, ever get the chance to share that story with her.

This wouldn’t do, he needed to focus on his team. 

They had chosen to use names of cities as their aliases, and had finally managed to pick one each after fighting over whether or not the various names suited each member, when they turned to him, asking what they should call him. 

As Sergio didn’t answer straight away, Río helpfully offered to find a suitable name for him online and pulled out a phone.

Sergio adjusted his glasses, “Where did you get that from Río? I confiscated your phone.”

Río tapped the phone excitedly, “Don’t worry, no one can tap into this one, I’ve programmed it myself.”

“Río…” Sergio walked up to him and stretched out his hand.

Río got up and moved away from him. “Fine, fine, you’ll get it after we find you a name. Let’s see…” 

Sergio braced himself for what he suspected was to come as a wide grin spread on Río’s face. “How about… Climax?”

The room erupted in laughter and Nairobi snatched the phone from Río, “Oooor… Titisee?”

She handed the phone to Berlin who straightened his tie before proclaiming with absolute seriousness, eyes trailed on his brother, “Shitterton.”

Sergio rolled his eyes as his team continued taking a childish delight in this new game. The phone ended up with Oslo, who simply stared at it until Tokyo snatched it from him. She soon erupted in laughter, “I have the perfect one: Thong!”

“Give me, give me, give me!” Tokyo threw the phone to Denver who quickly found his favourite and exclaimed with a proud grin, “Weener!”

The phone finally reached Moscú who handed it over to Sergio with an apologetic shrug. Sergio held the phone in the air, proclaimed that it was now confiscated and that he was not going to choose a city name for himself.

The giggling finally dying down, Moscú asked, “If not a city name, what should we call you?”

He was off to a bad start. One of the team members had already smuggled in a phone, a smartphone no less, and they didn’t seem to respect him as their leader. Wondering what Raquel would make of it, he thought she would probably tell him not to worry, and to relax, that they were just having fun, blowing off steam. She’d told him on one occasion that he couldn’t expect his authority to be respected straight out of the gate, that he was after all dealing with a group of people with a history of fighting any and all displays of authority. She’d explained that he was in all likelihood going to have to earn their respect with the plan. 

Thinking of Raquel, her parting words came to him, and he answered the group. “Professor. You can call me Professor.”

_Sergio must be with his team now._ A thousand questions were swirling around in her head. How had the assembly gone? Had anyone turned him down? Half of the team had outstanding arrest warrants, had any of them been recognised? Was the plan at risk in any way? Was Sergio? Was she?

More than anything though, she was dying to see him in the role of leader for this band of misfits he, they, had put together. She imagined he would have the same intensity he had displayed in their planning sessions, particularly when they disagreed. He would welcome questions, but not let himself or the class be side-tracked. He would keep the atmosphere focused, yet light. She imagined the group would both come to dread his lectures, and respect them. And he had promised her he wouldn’t drone on like he undeniably had a habit of doing.

_“Raquel, they need to learn, and so they’ll have to listen.”_

_“Look, the average human manages to really listen to a speaker for about twenty minutes. Some, like yourself, can take more while others, no doubt some of your team members, will manage to keep their focus for less.”_

_He was frustrated with her, she could tell. He’d never tell her as much but his entire being was screaming at her to leave him alone. She was part amused, part empathetic, but the bottom line was they both stood to lose far too much if he failed to get his team engaged and take in all they needed to know about this incredibly complex plan in just five months._

_“Steam at me all you want Sergio, but you know I’m right. Feel free to talk at them nonstop for five months, but if you do don’t expect them to remember any more than five percent of what you’ve said. Not to mention actually learn anything.”_

_He shifted in his seat, looking down at his hands. Shit. She had pushed him too far._

_“Look Sergio, I don’t mean to be harsh. I just… This is important.”_

_He nudged his glasses, and avoided looking at her. Raquel cursed herself. She’d been pushing him in their last sessions, evidently a little too much._

_She had begun getting affected by the time he would leave creeping ever closer, and the shadow of Alberto was steadily looming over her. She was taking it out on Sergio, who was currently the person she saw and shared the most with. It was wrong of her, but that didn’t mean she was wrong in what she was saying._

_“Sergio.”_

_She hoped her tone would bring him back to her, but he had retreated into his shell. She’d witnessed it a handful of times before in the year and a half that she’d known him. At times she would manage to draw him out of it either by backing off and letting him focus on his plan, or by chatting to him about Paula, or her life outside of their little bubble. But she wasn’t sure that would do the trick this time._

_She reached out to raise his chin, repeating softly. “Sergio.”_

_Catching his appearance, Raquel saw that he looked hurt, and she hated herself for it. His arms now resting on the table, hands clasped, she reached out and placed a hand over his arm, letting her thumb caress it lightly._

_Raquel’s hand was on his arm, sending a warm, comforting wave through him. The time he would separate from her was coming closer, they only had two weeks left together, and he slowly began accepting just how much he’d come to rely on her company, inputs and insights. He was going to miss sharing this with her. If it was up to him, she would be right there with him, taking the team through everything they needed to learn, interrupting him when he’d get carried away._

_He knew she was right, that he couldn’t expect his team to attentively listen to him as he walked them through the plan. But it still affected him to hear it. He knew his shortcomings, was painfully aware of them in fact, but hated that Raquel knew them as well._

_It wasn’t the first time she’d suggested he employ a variety of teaching methods, and he had heard her, had taken in her suggestions. He was going to include practical sessions, had just never gotten around to letting her know about it, since she mostly left the teaching to him. He didn’t know why she pushed him this far today, nor did he know why he reacted so strongly to it. He was edging on the realisation that he did so as he was soon to part from her, when Raquel spoke._

_“I’m sorry Sergio. Truth is…”, she let go of his arm and ran her hands through her hair, tilting her head back. “I’ve been throwing myself into this even more in the last few weeks. And, well, the more I throw myself into it, the more I push you.”_

_“Why?”_

_“I don’t know, I guess I lose some perspective?”_

_“No. Why have you thrown yourself into it more lately?”_

_“Oh.” Why did he have to be so… good?_

_Not wanting to get into it, feeling increasingly uncomfortable for not having shared her past with him, constantly wondering whether she should, Raquel shifted. Sergio must’ve caught her discomfort._

_“It’s alright, you don’t have to tell me.”_

_“No, no, it’s not that.” She got up, needing to stretch, to gather her thoughts. “I just. I hadn’t reflected on it really… It’s all a bit much right now.”_

_He waited for her to continue and she almost, almost, told him about it all, but changed her mind at the last minute. “Work, Alberto, Paula, this heist.”_

_He nodded, wondering if she was about to tell him she couldn’t go through with it. That now that they only had two weeks left together, she saw the insanity of it all. That she remembered that she was a cop, was supposed to fight the likes of him, not join forces with them. But she merely shook her head, giving him a small smile._

_“Anyways, just think about what I said?”_

_He nodded. As if he was ever able not to think about her, about her points of view._

She was sure it was all going fine. Sergio knew what he was doing, and had been planning for this too long to let matters get out of hand. And the glimpses she’d gotten of the persona he could draw from, fascinated her. It was Sergio, yet it wasn’t. 

It was Sergio if he was all business, it was Sergio when he argued logic and rationality could guide everything, that feelings had no place, that they could be side-lined with proper, meticulous planning. She wondered if he’d ever reflected over how thoroughly he’d broken his own rules with her, and how he had never been able to be all business with her, not for the year and a half that they’d known each other. 

She saw their bond as a strength, but had a sneaky suspicion a realisation that they in fact had one would spook him into retreating to what was for him familiar territory: no personal questions, no personal relationships. Solitude, relying only on himself. 

Well, whether he liked it or not, they had a personal relationship, a deeply personal relationship.

Raquel sighed. It had only been three days since she last saw him, but she was already preoccupied with thoughts of him, and wanted to talk to him. How on earth was she going to get through five months? And what if they didn’t meet up once the heist started? Could that hallway farewell truly have been the the last time she’d see him?

_**Four months before the heist** _

Raquel had done it, she had just pressed charges against Alberto. She’d been gathering her courage the entire month, and had been putting it off for longer. Talking to her sister had been fruitless, and the final straw had been dealt that morning when her mother informed her that her sister had moved in with Alberto a week prior. She couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

Having reported him, she felt both relieved and apprehensive. 

She felt like she finally got back some of what Alberto had stolen from her in their years together, like she was at last standing up for herself. Far too late, but standing up for herself nonetheless. 

But she knew exactly what would happen now, was painfully aware of how it would all play out. There was no proof, no witnesses, it was her word against his. 

All of his colleagues, and most of hers, were bound to turn against her. Their friends would dissect every interaction they’d ever had, and would reach the conclusion that all marriages had their problems. That Raquel was little more than a jealous, jilted ex-wife who lost her footing once her ex had moved on with her sister. Her sister would throw a fit and probably shut her out of her life for good, not realising Raquel was doing this for her almost as much as she was doing it for herself. 

And what about Sergio? Would the news reach him? What would he think of her, what would he think of her not telling him? 

And then there was her mother, and Paula… _God_ , how the fuck was she going to talk to Paula about this?

Pressing charges, she knew better than approaching one of her colleagues, or going to the nearest police station to file a report. Rather, she went straight to the family and women’s care unit. Alberto being a police officer as well, a popular one at that, was bound to make this process particularly difficult on her and she needed to talk to actual experts from the get go. She’d seen far too many cases of domestic violence being bungled and mishandled by officers unfit for the task, and she was not about to let that happen to her. She was going to take control of whatever she could as she was throwing herself headfirst into this storm. 

She knew the procedures, and as expected, a judge issued special protection measures while she was there. She knew it was standard while the case was being investigated and there was a plausible risk of retaliation against the plaintive, but she was nonetheless extremely relieved when it was issued. She knew such a measure never physically kept women safe from their abusers, but at least if Alberto approached her, she could press another charge for him violating the measures, which would in turn strengthen her case. 

The most important part though, was that she was temporarily granted sole custody of Paula. Alberto would still see her, but they would be supervised visits, and Raquel wouldn’t need to see him at all. 

She wanted to tell herself that the hardest part was done, but she knew that was far from true. She’d made one of the hardest decisions of her life, yes, but now she was going to have to live with the ramifications of that decision. She had just thrown a small snowball down a hill, and it was bound to grow and grow until it crashed into, well, everything. She needed to talk to her mother, and god only knows what she was going to tell Paula. And she had no doubt the news would spread quickly at work, that her colleagues would never view her in the same way again.

She went straight to work after spending four hours at the family and women’s care unit. She was on pins and needles, needed to busy her mind and was dead set on burying herself in work until she had to pick up Paula. Alberto soon burst into her office.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

She had expected this and maintained a calm demeanour as she remained seated, eyes glued to the report she had in front of her. “You can’t be here.”

“The hell I can’t.”

She wasn’t the same woman as when she’d left him almost two years prior. She had been slowly healing since, and in her time with Sergio had unexpectedly found her heart was capable of opening up to new people. Facing Alberto now she was angry, the adrenaline rushing through her, but she was also taken back to how he used to make her feel. She flinched slightly, hoping he didn’t catch it. She wanted nothing more than for him to leave, to leave without taking one step closer to her. She knew what he was capable of, and she never, ever, wanted to find herself physically close to him again.

“No, you can’t. Court order says so.” She looked up with a bitter smile, “Now fuck off.”

Alberto huffed and puffed. If every single one of Raquel’s nerves hadn’t been on high alert, she might’ve found the sight comical. “Really? This is how you want to play it?”

How _she_ wanted to play it? Just what part of this had been any of her choice? Raquel was itching to tell him exactly what was on her mind, to slap him, yell at him, hurl all the emotions she’d kept bottled up in their years together. Force him to hear and confront what he had put her through. But tempted as she was to rip into him, she needed him to get out and knew it wasn’t a good idea to be roped into engaging with him. She could only lose at that game, he was going to twist every single word she uttered around until there was nothing left but lies, trying to make her doubt herself again. 

So no, she wasn’t going to engage with him. She was going to stick with the facts, and the facts were simple.

“As I assume you’re aware, I have a protective order against you. Ergo, you can’t be here. Ergo, fuck off.”

“You bitch.”

She sighed and picked up the phone on her desk, “Don’t make me have you escorted out, Alberto.”

He was fuming, and wagged his finger at her. “You’re not going to get away with this, Raquel. I won’t let you. You fucking hear me?”

He threw the door open and marched out. She could hear him cursing her as he stomped through the office. If her colleagues weren’t aware before of what she had done, it was certainly only a matter of time now. Heart beating, she tried to take a few breaths and calm down. She’d manage to keep her cool, for which she was eternally grateful, but looking at her hands, they were trembling, and she knew this had only been a preview of what was to come.

After an intense day of teaching, Sergio had retired to his room to plan for the coming day and monitor intelligence reports. He’d left the team behind, gathered around what seemed like countless bottles of wine with Berlin taunting Nairobi, Tokyo shouting at Denver and Río giggling his way through the insults being hurled across the table. 

Sitting at his desk, going through the electronic reports a contact updated daily, he sat back in shock. Raquel had just pressed charges against her ex-husband for domestic abuse. 

This didn’t make any sense. Domestic violence. No, it couldn’t be. Not his Raquel.

Except that she wasn’t his, had never been, never would be.

Blinking, he tried to get it to make some kind of sense. Her ex-husband had been abusive, and he’d had no idea. He had spent a year and a half with her, he’d never suspected a thing, and she’d never told him. He allowed himself a brief moment to feel hurt that she hadn’t trusted him enough to share this with him. But he soon realised she must’ve seen similarities between him and her ex-husband.

He mentally kicked himself. She’d told him that her ex-husband had turned out to be someone completely different than what he’d made himself out to be. And Sergio too had lied to her, abused her trust, pretended to be someone he wasn’t. And here he was, feeling hurt that she hadn’t opened up to him about her abuse.

He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. How on earth had she managed to stay with him, to work on his plan with him, when this was what she’d been reeling from? No wonder she was always sensitive or in a foul mood whenever Paula wasn’t with her, he couldn’t even imagine what sending her daughter off with this man had been doing to her. 

He kept reading, and found that there was a new person registered to her ex-husband’s address. Marta Murillo. _What the hell?_ He pulled out Raquel’s file, quickly scanning through the personal information and soon found what he was looking for. Marta Murillo, Raquel’s younger sister. 

He was stunned, unable to believe anything he was reading. Raquel. In an abusive relationship. He just couldn’t comprehend it, she was the strongest, kindest, most intimidating person he knew, had ever met. He didn’t want to believe it, wanted to think the report concerned another Raquel Murillo, not _his_ Raquel Murillo. 

He again had to remind himself that she was not his, and that he didn’t know her quite as well as he had thought. 

He opened the report she’d filed, and his heart dropped as he saw that it went on, and on, through several pages. He couldn’t bring himself to reading it. It was a violation of her privacy, but it was also physically impossible for him to get through her recounting of whatever Vicuña had put her through.

He wanted to talk to her, needed to hear her voice. He had no idea of what he’d say, but he desperately needed to talk to her. They had agreed not to be in touch, that it would be too risky, but he wanted to be with her, to be there for her. Whatever she needed. 

He began jotting down ideas of how he could reach out to her safely, from sending her an encoded message, to calling her, to showing up at her house, when he realised the futility of his efforts. Yes, it could be done, but such a contact should only be established for actual emergencies. There was a reason why they had agreed on no contact in these five months. Contact risked compromising Raquel, and her pressing charges against her ex-husband was likely to already attract extra attention to her.

But… Maybe he could send her a sign. Something to let her know that he was with her. Then it really hit him: she hadn’t told him. 

They had spent a year and a half together, and she’d never told him about this part of her life. And she hadn’t told him now, he had only found out because she was a part of his plan, because he monitored any police reports in which she was mentioned. He had for a lack of better words spied on her, and therefore found out some extremely private information. He suspected this was part of the reason why she had reacted so strongly when she found the file he had on her, she knew what might be in there.

She would not have approved. Imagining her face, eyebrows raised in challenge, her jaw squared, he chuckled. Not have approved was an understatement, she would have been livid and let him have it. Difficult as it was to accept, she would’ve told him if she had wanted him to know. He had no right to know this about her until she told him. 

The information was now part of the information he, as the Professor, had on her, Inspector Murillo. But as Raquel she hadn’t shared it with him, and he was going to respect it. Regardless of how much he wanted to drop everything, take the old Seat, drive to her house, and spend the night with her in his arms, he was going to respect it.

_**Three months before the heist** _

“Inspector Raquel Murillo.”

Boos echoed through the room. His team members were undoubtedly not the police’s biggest fans, so much so in fact that it worried Sergio. They didn’t need to love the police, but they had to understand that officers were under no circumstances to be hurt either. He’d tried humanising them in the past two months that he had walked his team through the ground rules and a variety of actions they could expect from the police but if the boos were any indication, he’d not been very successful in that department. 

They also needed to know who they were going to be dealing with, as there was a risk that they would come in direct contact with one, or several, of the key players, chief among them Raquel. He hadn’t looked forward to briefing his team about her, as it left him with the unsettling feeling that he was betraying her, betraying them, but he could no longer put it off. And Raquel knew he was going to do it, had somewhat reluctantly agreed that it was necessary, and advised him to approached it as if they were complete strangers. He had viewed her objectively before they met she’d told him, meaning he should brief his team the way he had indented to do before they burst into each other’s lives.

Silencing the group, Sergio pinched his thumb and index finger in the air, “No, she’s not the enemy. In fact, Inspector Murillo is key to the successful progression and execution of the heist. You see, she’s going to be the Inspector put in charge of the negotiations, and with her at the helm, the police is unlikely to storm the Mint without regard for the hostages. She’ll ensure no one gets hurt, and that we’ll have the time we need on the inside.”

Denver interrupted him, “Professor, how do you know that?”

“How do I know what?”

“That she’s going to be in charge.” Moscú shot his son a dirty look for interrupting Sergio.

“She’s the top negotiator in the country and has a spotless record. As long as she’s available, she’ll be in charge.”

He had their attention, and continued. “In case you have to deal with her, remember the plan. She’ll be empathetic, calm, will listen to you, will install faith in her, in the system. In short, she’s very good, and you’ll be tempted to put your trust in her rather than the plan. But remember this is what she does: she negotiates. She negotiates, but without actually giving you anything. She’ll give in to some of our demands, the ones that are easy, and she’ll stall you actually getting in written what you think you’ve agreed upon. Whatever she promises you, don’t be fooled, her hands will be tied, regardless of what she says. She can’t promise you a pardon, she can’t guarantee a short prison sentence. She can make recommendations, but that’s the extent of it. But I cannot stress this enough: don’t underestimate how convincing she will be. She’ll play on every weakness you have, and she’s going to be so rational about it, you’ll start seeing things her way before you’ll know what hit you.”

Tokyo huffed, “Sounds like a manipulative bitch if you ask me.”

“Hardly Ms. Tokyo.” Speaking of Raquel this way, he couldn’t help but feel proud, “This is the game, and she plays it expertly.”

Sergio took a deep breath, he hated what he was about to share with them, but their trust in him, in his plan, might be compromised if they found out during the heist he’d held back vital information from them. Andrés in particular would question why, which in turn might put Raquel at risk.

“She’s divorced, lives with her daughter and her mother, and has recently filed a complaint on domestic abuse against her ex-husband. She’s been granted a temporary protection order against him, as well as temporary custody of their daughter, while the case is under investigation.”

Nairobi muttered a few chosen curse words under her breath, before she asked him, with a hint of a challenge. “Are you going to use that information against her?”

Sergio shook his head. “To be honest I don’t think we’ll have to, I’m fairly certain the CNI will do the dirty work for us. Her ex-husband is rather well-connected and since she tends to play fair, she’s, well, not as much.”

Even if the CNI didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to use or leak the information, to do that to her. He’d do anything to ensure the plan would work, would pull at any string. Except for this one.

Nairobi scoffed, “Fucking typical. So what Professor, you’re trying to get us to like her?”

He nudged his glasses. “No. But I want you to respect her, and under no circumstances underestimate her. If you do, you’ll give her an opening and believe me, she’ll take it.” 

After class, his brother came up to Sergio once the others had filed out of the room. “Are you still planning to approach and get close to Inspector Murillo?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“You’re drawn to her, aren’t you?”

Sergio shifted. He briefly wondered how Andrés had managed to catch on to how much Raquel appealed to him, he thought he’d managed to stay objective in his briefings. He didn’t want to lie to his brother, but he’d promised Raquel to keep her involvement secret. “Don’t be absurd.”

“I see it when you talk about her, you’re fascinated and want to meet your opponent.”

Sergio shook his head and nudged his glasses. “Andrés please. She’s a pawn. I respect her as an opponent, but that is all she is.”

Unconvinced, Andrés patted him on the back. “Just be careful little brother. If she’s half as good as you say she is, you’re going to have your work cut out for you, especially if you approach her personally as well.”

He smiled at Sergio, gave his shoulder a squeeze, and walked out. If only he knew how right he was, that Raquel had in fact already figured him out, that she had already seeped into his very essence, that she was all he could think about when he wasn’t teaching.

_**Two months before the heist** _

Tokyo had questioned him about his past relationships and he had stuttered his way through telling her that he had in fact been in several. His thoughts had immediately gone to Raquel though. He wasn’t about to tell Tokyo of their relationship, but even if he was, how would he even begin to explain to anyone what he shared with Raquel, when he couldn’t quite put a finger on it himself? 

He’d known her for almost two years and in that time she had gone from being his lover to a partner in every sense of the term, except, much to his dismay, physically. Intellectually he knew it had been the right decision, that them maintaining a physical relationship would have endangered the plan. But since meeting Raquel he had discovered that he was just a man, and a greedy one at that. He wanted everything with her. He wanted to plan the most significant event of his life with her, he wanted to laugh with her, to go on hikes with her, to just be with her, and he wanted to have sex with her. He craved her mind, and he most definitely craved her body as well.

He had spent three months with his team and had been busy trying to reign them in and create some semblance of order in the chaos they created, but he would regularly be hit by a longing to talk to her, discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the team, and to acknowledge how right she’d been in telling him these people would make his life very difficult in the five months he’d have them sequestered. Sergio had insisted he would be dealing with adults and that he would make them keep their focus on the plan. Raquel had huffed at his conviction, shot him a knowing look and muttered, “we’ll see.” And she’d been right. 

He quite often felt like a school teacher or parent of teenagers, telling them to go to bed at all hours of the night, particularly when they’d managed to get their hands on copious amounts of alcohol for the umpteenth time. Of course if Raquel had been there, she’d probably scold him for not joining them, but any time he was already spending socialising with them was thanks to her. She had urged him to spend time with them, get to know them, and connect with them. He had been doubtful at first but was now forming bonds with his team and, much to his surprise, it seemed to strengthen their commitment to the plan, and to him. And he actually enjoyed it.

Back in Madrid, Raquel was having a miserable time, and without her planning sessions with Sergio, had very little to distract her from the currently rather shitty state of her life. Sensing an opening now that she had pressed charges against Alberto, Ángel had gotten increasingly clingy and had started making innuendos again. Raquel feared he would soon enough profess his love for her, something she truly did not have the energy to deal with. 

But far worst, the thing she had feared would happen if she told anyone about Alberto had happened: no one believed her. 

She had told her mother, her sister, and had finally pressed charges against him in a vain attempt at protecting both her sister and Paula from him. But all she got in return were sceptical looks and snarky comments about bitter middle-aged women. It was the final humiliation Alberto put her through, refusing to own up to what he did, reducing her to a jealous, jilted ex-lover who lied about this great man to ruin him. Never mind that he had been breaking her down for years, had ruined her for future relationships. 

To get through it all, she focused all of her energy on Paula, and on mentally running through Sergio’s plan over and over again, making sure she had every detailed memorised and would be ready when the day finally came.

She missed talking to Sergio, missed teasing him, missed the dimples that would form as he smiled, usually with his head bowed, appearing surprised that she’d gotten him to laugh. She missed sharing meals with him, exchanging small touches and glances, heavy with meaning. And though it had only happened a handful of times since they’d ended their physical relationship, she missed breathing in his scent as his arms held her close, and kept the darkness at bay. 

She needed those arms now, needed to feel safe. She needed him.

_**Evening before the heist** _

It had been five months, five months, since she’d last seen or spoken to Sergio and the shit was going to hit the fan the following day. Attempting to sleep, Raquel was nervously anticipating daybreak and the call that would undoubtedly come. She had the day off and was supposed to spend it with Paula preparing for her birthday party, but she was going to miss the planning and the party alike. Paula had been the one to insist on the date given that her best friend would’ve been out of town the weekend before, when Raquel originally wanted to schedule the party. She planned on making it up to her daughter eventually, after the heist, when Sergio would be god knows where, rich beyond all reason, and she would focus all of her attention where it belonged; on Paula.

She was definitely not going to be in her daughter’s good graces after this week given the amount of hours she was going to have to put in at work. Sergio and his team were going to keep them busy, exceedingly so. And Paula was already mad at her for the limited amount of time she got to spend with her father. Raquel shook her head, her troubles with Alberto were going to have to wait. The matter was currently with a judge, and she needed to keep her focus for the week to come, and keep a cool head. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts went to Sergio. 

She missed hearing his voice and wanted nothing more than to spend the night in his arms, the way she hadn’t done in over a year, with the exception of that one drunken night. She was dying to hear about the past five months, how the team was building, whether he had identified any holes in the plan, or had come up with new ones for emergencies. But more than anything, she wondered how he must be feeling, about to embark on the events he had planned for, for most of his adult life.

Sergio had spent the evening with his brother, going over the final details one last time and enjoying his company, knowing he was about to dive headfirst into danger while Sergio was staying safe on the outside. But now that he was alone in his bed, his mind wandered to Raquel. She was unlike any woman he had ever met, and in the past five months he had missed seeing and talking to her far more than he had thought he would. 

At that moment he would have given almost anything just to go over the plan with her one last time, get her thoughts on the behaviours his team members had been displaying, share with her the aliases they had picked for themselves, have her argue with him about aspects she disagreed with, tell her she was right about the need for practical exercises. 

She had insisted he undertake as many practical exercises as possible with his team, pointing out that not everyone learned the way he did, by simply reading a book. And the better prepared they were, the less risk there would be of them slipping up. But she had always maintained that regardless of how meticulously they planned, and how well-trained his team was, there were going to be mistakes and unexpected turn of events. 

With only a few hours to go until the heist, he prayed that she, for once, had been wrong.


	7. Let's dance

_”How come you don’t want to talk about Palawan anymore?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula honey, answer the question.”_

_“I’m not an idiot.”_

_“No one is suggesting that you are.”_

_“Then why do you keep treating me as if I am one?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I know all of this is about finding them, it isn’t about me.”_

_“Paula, honey.”_

_“What, dad? It’s true.”_

_“It isn’t Paula, and I’m sorry if that’s the impression I’m giving you. We’ve just all been very worried about you, dreading what might have come of you with every passing year… Your father especially has been worried sick. But alright, I hear you. Let’s talk about something else then. Have you heard of the 2017 heist against the Royal Mint in Madrid?”_

_“Of course, I have.”_

_“And do you know who the mastermind behind that heist was?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_“Why are you asking me that? Everyone knows who the mastermind was.”_

_“And who is that?”_

_“Sergio.”_

### 

_**One month after the heist** _

_BREAKING NEWS_

_“Inspector Raquel Murillo, who was in charge of the negotiations during the assault against the Royal Mint only one month ago, has just been sentenced to prison for her involvement in the heist. The Inspector, a single mother who has accused her ex-husband of domestic abuse, was arrested when she...”_

* * *

_**Friday, first day of the heist** _

Knowing that it had all started, that Sergio’s team was inside, but having to act normal and do nothing but wait for the call, was pure agony. Raquel was antsy, eager to get the show on the road, yet dreading the moment the call would come in. The first hours would be crucial, both she and Sergio knew this was when the likelihood of someone getting hurt was the highest. Everyone would be on edge, jumpy, trigger-happy. She prayed he’d managed to train the team well enough to keep their shit together. Because she and Sergio had covered everything they could control, every last detail.

_”Let’s go over it again.”_

_“Raquel…”_

_“Just humour me Sergio.”_

_He removed his glasses and cleaned them with a tired chuckle. “You’re even worse than I am.”_

_“Hardly.” She shot him a knowing look, eyebrow raised, and he averted his eyes. “But if the beginning goes wrong, the entire basis for the heist disappears. You’ll never get the public on your side, and we’ll all be fucked... Well, you, primarily.”_

_It was their last week together and they were exhausted, nervous, getting on each other’s nerves, and dreading the moment they were to part. Sergio didn’t want to use their last days going through the beginning again, they’d covered it numerous times and he’d rather focus on other parts. But he humoured her, like she had humoured him many times._

_“Alright. First, the van transporting the paper to the Mint. You’re sure the police escorting it won’t resist?”_

_She nodded. “Positive. They’re paid close to nothing, and hardly treated with respect by the rest of the force. They won’t be risking their lives. They might if they knew what you were planning, but not having any idea of what you’re after, guns to their heads, they won’t fight.”_

_“And they’ll help us enter the Mint without alerting anyone?”_

_“If your team is convincing enough then yes, I’m certain they will.”_

_“Good. The rotation of staff hasn’t changed?”_

_“No. The officers assigned now won’t rotate out until another seven months. But you’ll keep monitoring it until the last day? In case there are last minute changes?”_

_“I will.”_

_“Good. There isn’t a hero type among the ones currently on rotation so unless one of them gets injured, you should be fine.”_

_“Good, good.” He adjusted his glasses, “Then the team on-site, minus Jiménez and Oliveira, should quickly be able to get control of the truck and police escort alike, load the drivers and one of the officers into the van, collect the road signs, and be on their way in under five minutes. Andrés will be in the police car, while…”_

Shaking herself back to the present, Raquel tried to focus on the preparations for Paula’s birthday party, but the girl was solemn and demanded to know why her father wouldn’t be allowed to attend it. The situation with Alberto had gotten worse since she and Sergio parted, and Raquel felt drained as a result. She’d felt utterly alone after having pressed charges against him. Alone, humiliated, judged, and trapped.

Feeling her emotions flaring, Raquel stopped herself; she couldn’t dwell on that now. She was going to need to be fully focused for the days, however many it would be, to come. She was about to take on a high-stake game of playing both sides, and she knew things she and Sergio hadn’t been able to account for were bound to occur. She had hoped to be emotionally stable by the time this day rolled along, but alas, Alberto had made that entirely impossible. 

Truth be told, she was frail, nearing the end of her rope. She felt it with every bone in her body. She needed a rest. Needed to breath, needed to be believed, needed for not everyone to blame her for making things uncomfortable by reporting Alberto. For her colleagues to treat her with respect. If empathy was unprofessional, she failed to see how barely contained distain wasn’t. She needed them to be the professionals they claimed to be. But they’d proven they were not on her side, and with every minute ticking closer to that phone call, it dawned on Raquel just how much of a strain the coming days would put on her.

If Sergio slipped, he and his team were fucked. If she slipped, they were all fucked.

It was daunting, it was terrifying, it was thrilling. It had nothing to do with Alberto. Absurdly enough, it made her feel alive.

Raquel’s heart jumped as her phone finally rang. She left Paula and her mother outside, took a deep breath, told herself she was ready for this, that she had spent a year preparing for it, that everything was going to go according to plan. Answering the phone, she was immediately brought right back to reality with the sobering news that two police officers had been shot by Sergio’s team.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!_

Sergio was pacing the hangar, cursing himself, cursing his team. Tokyo was sleeping with Rio and as a consequence, things were already going to hell, and two police officers had been shot. Praying that they weren’t seriously injured, he tried clearing his mind by going over his opening line with Raquel, trying to find just the right intonation that would catch her off guard, but wouldn’t make her actually want to cut his balls off. If it hadn’t been for the gravity of the moment, the thought would’ve made him both chuckle and squirm. But right now, with two officers injured, possibly severely so, nothing seemed funny, and he vaguely wondered if the turn of events would alienate Raquel, if the tactic he’d settled on to destabilise her might not be the right one.

He shook his head. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, nor to doubt the plan. The plan was perfect. There had been glitch, but that’s all it was, and he was going to lead them back on track. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the chair, eyes trailed on his monitors, and waited for the call to come through.

She could strangle Sergio. He had sworn it could be done, that he would be able to train his team to keep a cool head. Yet they were only a few hours in, and things were already going to hell. And she was a part of this. If any of those officers died, it would be on her conscience too. 

But this was not the time to second-guess herself, Sergio, or the plan. To be able to pull this off, she’d have to stay focused and trust him, even though the time she’d spent with Sergio planning currently seemed like it took place a lifetime ago, or even in a different life altogether. She rushed to the command tent set up outside the Royal Mint and, assured that the officers were not critically wounded, breathed a sigh of relief and was ready to start. The CNI wasted no time crawling up her ass, but she didn’t allow herself to be drawn in. She knew they were all in it for the long haul, that there would be no quick resolution to this, and she needed to pick her fights carefully. Fuck the CNI, she had things to do. 

They had practiced negotiating, tried a variety of styles and had agreed not to script anything, needing to make it as believable as humanly possible. And the best way to achieve that, was to not actually know exactly what the other would say, when. She knew she was going to have to follow his lead, and trust him implicitly, trust the plan. Ready to begin the negotiations, Raquel put her hair up, a headset on, and took a deep breath as the phone rang.

_Here we go._

Waiting for the call to come through, Sergio was trying to maintain a calm exterior. But he was restless, agitated, anxious. He tried telling himself his heightened awareness was due to the heist, that it was just nerves, that it had nothing to with the fact that he was about to hear her voice for the first time in five months. His heart skipped a beat as the phone rang, he took a deep breath, and braced himself.

He wouldn’t be speaking to Raquel, and she wouldn’t be speaking to Sergio. The Professor was going to speak to the Inspector in charge. This was business, nothing else.

He answered, she said “hello”. Hello. Such a simple, small word. Yet it was undeniably Raquel’s voice, greeting him the way she had so many times before, though the intonation of her voice was different, and the softness he was accustomed to was gone. This was without a doubt Inspector Murillo. Nonetheless, it was her voice, Raquel’s voice, he heard it for the first time in five months, and it took all he had not to react to it, to her, to keep his own voice even. He focused on the red crane he was working on in front of him, and answered coolly, “Good afternoon.”

It was unnerving to hear the metallic voice Sergio used on the other end. The disappointment she felt when she heard it forced her to accept that part of her had absurdly enough expected to hear _his_ voice, and had looked forward to it. She’d missed talking to him, arguing with him, turning every detail of the plan over, sick of it as she had been the last time they’d seen one another.

They were off to a good start; he’d asked about the wounded officers, thus reassuring her that he didn’t condone what had happened, and she’d even made him chuckle with a quip about negotiating with the Prime Minister. And then he asked her what she was wearing. She was first stunned, then pissed. _Son of a bitch_. Of all the approaches they’d gone over when they practiced, this was the one she’d told him in no uncertain terms _not_ to use.

_”No. Sergio, no. You cannot be serious!”_

_“Of course I am.”_

_“Sergio.” Exasperated, she repeated, “Sergio!”_

_“What?”_

_“You can’t do that!”_

_He kept his gaze trailed on his documents, “It’s just a tactic Raquel.”_

_“It’s sexist and humiliating.”_

_“That’s what it’s meant to be.”_

_She huffed, “How nice.”_

_He finally looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “No, I just mean… It’s meant to destabilise you.”_

_“I’ve put up with that kind of behaviour throughout my career, throughout my life. What on earth makes you think it would destabilise me?”_

_His eyes darted across the room and he remained silent._

_“It wouldn’t destabilise me. The only thing it would achieve is pissing me off, and undermining me in front of my colleagues.”_

_“I know Raquel, but that’s a…” He didn’t finish the sentence, aware he was wading into very dangerous territory. Nudging his glasses, he attempted to explain his stance. “The more chaotic things are inside the tent, the more time it’ll buy me.”_

_She shot him a dirty look, “Or, it’ll create a chaos that I will have lost all authority and respect to handle.”_

_“I have full faith in your ability to manage the situation, to keep all the men in the tent firmly in check.”_

_She sat down with a huff, glaring at him. “Don’t try to soften me up with compliments.”_

_“I’m not… Look, it’s just one of the options, I haven’t decided which tactic I’ll use.”_

_She scoffed, “Please. Like I don’t know you’ve already settled on this one.”_

_“I haven’t Raquel, I swear I haven’t. But you said it yourself, you shouldn’t know exactly what I’m going to say, nor which approach I’ll use in our negotiations. Your reactions to it need to be believable.”_

_Raquel sighed loudly, crossing her arms, and Sergio could’ve sworn she was pouting. Amused, he realised he’d never seen her pout before. He found it impossibly endearing and it made him desperate to kiss her. While he was staring at her lips though, stuck in the memories of how they felt aginst his, Raquel’s mind was firmly on their future negotiations._

_She ran her hands through her hair and tried to reason with him. “Just… Pretend like I was a man, and push my buttons the way you would a man.”_

_Chuckling, Sergio shook his head, “I haven’t decided yet, I promise.”_

_Undeterred, Raquel powered through. “You could ask me if I like football, then tell me my team is the worst.”_

_“Raquel…”_

_“Or you could claim that I’m gay, that always tends to rile up big macho men.”_

_“I’m not…”_

_“You could also emasculate me in front of my colleagues. Say you’ve hacked my search history and found how much I like kittens. Or you could tell me I could never take you in a fight, or that you’ve had sex with more people than I have, or say you’ve had sex with my mother, with my wife, or…“_

_Sergio held up his hand, “Alright, alright, I hear you. But I’m still not going to tell you.”_

_“Sergio, I swear to God if you…”_

_“Raquel, you know I have a variety of tactics to choose from. You’re just going to have to trust me.”_

_She snorted, “Not when you look like that, I don’t.”_

_“And how exactly do I look?”_

_“Far too pleased with yourself for my liking. I’ve known you for over a year Sergio, I know that look is a massive alarm bell.”_

Of course this was how he chose to do it. And then he had the nerve to justify his question, to act as though it was actually a legitimate one. She wondered why he had chosen this tactic specifically, wondered if it was payback for all the times she’d pushed him out of his comfort zone, for all the times she had teased him and he’d been unable to respond. 

The thought of all the times she’d made him squirm, caused Raquel to smirk. He was pushing her buttons. But two could play at this game.

She stalled by pointing out the number of people present in the tent, her heart skipping a beat when he told them they could call him Professor, that it was what everyone called him. She knew it wasn’t, it was what _she_ had called him, and the small gesture reminded her of their connection, that they were in this together. So, when he asked if he could trust her, though he asked it in relation to not launching an intervention against the Mint, she caught the double meaning and didn’t miss a beat as she answered, “Of course.”

Yet he still insisted she tell him what she was wearing, presenting the half-assed argument that one’s clothes said a lot about a person. Smirking as she finally answered, Raquel thought of the ways she was going to make him pay for this if she ever saw him again. Oh, she was going to enjoy the hell out of it. But until then, she was going to do what they had agreed to do, follow protocol, do her job as a negotiator, and keep him talking. 

She quickly got used to the metallic voice and thought she could still hear Sergio behind it. The way he would pause in certain places, let out air in surprise, how pleased he sounded at flirting with her. It was still him after all, a smugger, more collected version of him, but it was still him and that provided her with some comfort for what was she was about to face. It also made her desperately want to see him, to talk about what was happening on the inside, to chew him out for essentially making the Professor a sexist prick.

They hadn’t decided if they were to have any contact during the heist. They’d known it made little sense that they do, but the thought that they would never see each other again wasn’t one either had cared to broach, and they’d thus made a very vague plan, and had left it open.

_“So if we do have contact, we follow your initial plan and meet at the Hanoi?”_

_“Right. We’ll act like we’re meeting for the first time, that way we’ll solidify your story that you had nothing to do with the heist. That if we do meet, then I deceived you.”_

_Eyebrow raised, she poked him with her pen, “Which you did.”_

_Sergio shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable, and adjusted his glasses. “Right. The point is, there will be witnesses to attest that we didn’t know each other prior to that meeting.”_

_“So, what’s the plan, are you going to approach me?”_

_“Yes.”_

_He sounded unusually confident, and it surprised Raquel. “Oh, really? Just like that?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Amused, she eyed him questioningly. “You’re going to hit on me?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Her jaw dropped. This was not her usual Sergio. This was the man she’d increasingly been getting a glimpse of with the heist creeping ever closer, the persona she suspected he would take on once he sequestered with his team, in three weeks._

_“Well, aren’t you awfully confident all of a sudden.”_

_“Raquel…”_

_She cut him off, raising her hands in a gesture of peace. “No, no, I’m not complaining, nor picking a fight. I’m just saying it’s not very like you.”_

_He huffed before straightening up in his chair, shooting her an uncertain look. “Might I remind you that I’m the one who asked you out for a drink when we first met.”_

_Biting back a laugh, Raquel found him impossibly endearing trying to stand his ground with her. When it came to the plan, he’d have no problem doing it, but when it came to the more personal aspects of their relationship, he was clearly out of his depth, and she loved watching him trying to regain some semblance of control over a situation or conversation._

_“Right. You were very forward.”_

_Not catching the sarcasm in her voice, he nodded, pleased with having proven his point._

_Raquel cleared her throat, “And I suppose I’m to fall for you when you approach me?”_

_“Well, yes. What’s the point otherwise?”_

_As she scoffed, he added, a little wounded. “It’s not so farfetched Raquel. You’ve proven to be susceptible to, well… My charm.”_

_Raquel laughed, “Your charm.”_

_“Yes, my charm.”_

_Patting his arm, she winked as she stood to get them both a glass of water, “You do have your own brand of charm Sergio, I’ll give you that.”_

_He was right though, she was entirely susceptible to him, had been from the very beginning. She’d been as drawn to his intellect, sense of humour and awkwardness as she had been attracted to him. But if they continued this conversation, with him looking at her with a mix of shyness, confidence and a dash of confusion, she would end up jumping him, she knew it. They only had three weeks left together and her resolve to keep their relationship non-physical was weakening with every moment they shared, with every time he was there for her, with every time he pissed her off, with every time he made her laugh._

**_Saturday, second day of the heist_ **

Leaving the tent in the early hours of the morning, Raquel was not in the best of moods. As expected, the CNI, with colonel Prieto at its helm, had gone over her head and ordered the special forces to launch an attack on the Mint. And Prieto was apparently intent on being a dick throughout this whole ordeal. It was going to be a long couple of days and she would have to pick her battles carefully, but she also needed to establish just who was in charge. She decided to call her supervisor and tell him to take her off the case. She knew there was no way in hell they would hand this over to Ángel or another inspector, so hoped the manoeuvre would earn her back-up from above, and that it would trickle over to the CNI, reminding Prieto that he would have to work _with_ her, and that she was the one in charge.

She was beyond tired. Things had finally settled down at the Mint and she desperately wanted to get some sleep, but she also needed to see Sergio, to remind herself that they were in fact in this together, that the year and a half they had spent together, first as lovers then as partners, hadn’t been an illusion. 

So, she headed to the Hanoi. 

It had been a long night. She imagined Sergio was in a state similar to hers, and she didn’t dare to hope finding him there. She spotted him sitting at the counter the minute she walked in though, and an immense sense of relief and gratitude washed over her. She sat a few chairs down from him, ordered a decaf, and remembered she should call her mother before her supervisor, but her phone was out of batteries and, as always, she’d forgotten her charger. She was cursing under her breath when he spoke. 

“Do you want to use mine?”

Raquel turned to him in surprise, trying to keep her expression levelled, even though finally hearing his voice again affected her deeply. Made her want to get lost in his arms, for him to just hold her, to ground her after the rough past months she’d had. He was establishing contact, but she wondered if he was certain about this, if it was prudent, if it’s what they should do, or if he was just acting out of exhaustion. 

She tried not to sound too hopeful, “Really? You don’t mind?” 

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Sergio smiled softly, she was giving him an out. An out he didn’t want. 

The minute Tokyo had fired at the police officers rather than shooting on the ground, he had thought of Raquel. She had warned him repeatedly that it was impossible to accurately predict how his team was going to react to the extreme situations they would find themselves in, but he had insisted it could be done, that he would get them ready. And the first thing that had happened was that two police officers got shot. He dreaded to think how much else could have gone wrong if Raquel hadn’t appeared in his life two years too soon and demanded he let her help him finetune the plan. 

When the assault was called off and his team got to work, he could think of only thing he needed, only one thing he wanted. To see Raquel, to be near her again. He had gone to the Hanoi on the off chance that she would come by now that things had settled at the Mint and the police were backing off, at least momentarily. And his heart had skipped a beat at hearing her voice as she ordered a coffee. She came. He didn’t allow himself to believe that she’d come because she wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see her. Maybe she just wanted a coffee before heading home. But she was there.

She accepted the phone with a thank you and their fingers grazed briefly as she took it from him. Her touch shot through Sergio and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He smiled to himself as she called her mother, but his smile quickly faded when he heard her call what he assumed to be her supervisor, telling them that she was quitting the case. She gave nothing away as she handed him back the phone, and he looked at her with what he imagined was barely contained panic. 

He tried making small talk to find out what was going on, but she wasn’t having it and he was at a loss as to what was going on. She was gone before he had a chance to do much of anything and he was left staring after her, hoping she still had faith in the plan, and that the small smile she granted him before she left was meant as a reassurance. That regardless of how badly things had started, she was still with him.

Raquel wanted to sit and have her coffee quietly, next to him, to be soothed by his presence. For the two of them to share a space the way they hadn’t been able to do in five months. She was tired, didn’t want to lie, didn’t want to pretend like she didn’t know him, so she preferred silence. She’d been lying for so long now, basically ever since she’d caught on to him, two months into their relationship. But he kept asking her questions, pushing too hard, and it stressed her. She was already trying to keep up pretences in the tent, with Ángel, and balance how she should react through every stage of the heist, how she would have reacted had she not known basically every step that was to come. 

And the truth was, if she was the lead negotiator on a case, had gone in to get a coffee in a bar close to the scene of the crime before heading home and a man had approached her the way Sergio was currently doing, she would not have given that man the light of day. Or she would’ve suspected he was fishing for information. Annoyed and fatigued, she had no patience left; it had all been sucked out of her by Sergio, or the Professor, by Alberto, by the CNI. So, she left, only managing a small smile, hoping it would be enough convey to him that she was just tired, that they could try this again another day.

_“There’s one thing we haven’t factored in yet.”_

_He looked at her, brow furrowed, then looked back at his notes, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think so.”_

_“I’m not talking about the plan itself, I’m talking about us.”_

_“Us?”_

_“Yes. You and I. The fact that we’re also an element in this. We’re going to be under a great deal of pressure and we haven’t factored in how you and I are going to react under that pressure.”_

_Sergio removed his glasses and cleaned them, trying to understand her point. “But we’re prepared for it. We know everything that’s going to happen, and we’ve run through every possible scenario.”_

_She ran a hand through her hair, “I know that. But… You’ve never actually been part of something like this before, have you?”_

_He shook his head._

_“Right. And I’ve never been the lead negotiator on a case where I’ve been part of planning the assault I’m fighting against. My point is merely that there’s no certainty that this isn’t going to affect us as well, that we might not manage to stay as calm as we think throughout.”_

_“Ok…” Sergio hadn’t thought of it that way before, had always assumed that with the proper preparations, he’d be able to plan his own emotions out of the way. He still thought he could, but something about what Raquel said struck a chord. He had plans in place for if his team lost it under pressure, as a precaution, but he wasn’t going to be on the inside, and hadn’t really thought anything might happen that could destabilise him to the point of endangering the plan. “How do we prepare for that though?”_

_She shrugged, “Maybe we can’t, but we should be aware of it if nothing else.”_

* * *

After getting some much-needed sleep and talking to her supervisor, agreeing to stay on the case, Raquel left Paula’s birthday party and returned to the tent. As if she wasn’t under enough pressure as it was, basically orchestrating a heist while simultaneously fighting it, the press had found out about her restraining order against Alberto, no doubt thanks to a leak from the CNI. And in the next call with the Professor, he was back to taunting her, going so far as to asking if she’d ever faked an orgasm. 

She wasn’t expecting that question, she’d give him that much. He’d never dared to ask her that face to face. She humoured him for a while, could envision his smirk as she did, before moving on to the reason she had called. He needed to know that they had footage from the inside, that it was just a matter of time until they identified one, or more, of his team members. And she knew it was too soon, they hadn’t planned for this to happen one day in. 

She gave him one hour to surrender, knowing full well he never would, and had just fifteen minutes to eat and to clear her head. They had managed to ID Anibal Cortés and she had little doubt they would soon find whoever went into the Mint with him. It was all moving too fast, the colonel was like a pimple on her ass, the Professor was taunting her in the most infuriating way, and the press were having a field day with her infected situation with Alberto. 

It was not the right moment for him to approach her and attempt to strike up a conversation. Clueless as ever when it came to human interaction, Sergio didn’t seem to take the hint and continued to push. She didn’t have it in her to put on yet another show, desperately needing something to be real in this chaos. She decided to leave before she did something she’d undoubtedly regret, but as she caught him peering at her phone over her shoulder, she couldn’t resist making him pay for some of what he was putting her through, and she did what she would’ve to any man who’d tried looking at her phone in that moment; she twisted his arm behind his back, and slammed him into the counter. She leaned into him and growled in his ear, so only he could hear. “That’s for asking about my fucking orgasms, Sergio.” 

His face slammed into the counter before he realised what was happening. He should’ve known she wouldn’t let him get away with it, that she’d make him pay one way or the other. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, Raquel making him pay for it had been an irresistible temptation when he chose this tactic of taunting. But with his face pressed against the cold counter and her snarling in his hear, he began regretting that decision. She frisked him for good measures, pretending she thought he was a journalist, before releasing him and walking out, leaving Sergio gaping after her. She was mad, but she’d called him Sergio. That had to mean something.

Back in the tent, they had just gotten through another round of negotiations when Sergio showed up. In the tent. Raquel stared at him in shock. 

_What the fuck was he doing there?_

He held his phone out to her, saying it was her mother and that he thought it was about Paula. Raquel blinked a few times, looked around at her colleagues, then took the phone from him and dashed out of the tent. Luckily Paula was fine, but she was forced to deal with Alberto and being in close proximity to him again shook her. She was still all nerves when she met Sergio at the Hanoi to hand him back his phone. 

But Sergio joked with her, asked about her daughter, seeming genuinely concerned and it was the first time since the heist started that she felt calm, somewhat at ease. The first time in five months really. It was as though time had slowed down, and they were allowed a quiet moment, to feel connected to one another again, and Raquel was finally ready to share what she’d until now kept to herself. 

She suspected he already knew of Alberto’s abuse, if not from his surveillance of police reports linked to her, then from the news, but she still needed to tell him about it. At this point, he was one of the few people who knew her, and more importantly, one of the few people she trusted. Too many people thought she was lying, and she wouldn’t bare to see a hint of doubt in him. If he of all people didn’t believe her, she would be lost. 

She gathered her courage and, tears in her eyes, told him everything. 

He appeared stunned, but he believed her. More than that, it seemed like not believing her wasn’t even an option. And then he offered to help. The magnitude of what he was saying wasn’t lost on her. He was supposed to be gone in just a few days’ time, long gone, and for good. But here he sat, sincerely offering to help her. 

She had been shoving her feelings for him aside for so long, having no intention of making fugitives of herself, her mother, and her daughter, that she didn’t expect them to come back, to hit her with full force. She covered his hand with hers, tears in her eyes and thanked him, hoping to convey just how much his words and presence meant to her. 

She told him. Raquel told him everything, and he didn’t want this moment to end. He had missed her in the past five months, had wanted to be by her side when he found out about Alberto, and now she opened up to him, and her hand was on his. He forgot all about the heist, was only focused on the feeling of Raquel’s hand against his skin. In that instance, he would’ve done anything for her, anything at all. 

She wanted to stay in that moment for as long as possible, to draw strength from it, but to her surprise Sergio quickly withdrew his hand, and Ángel soon appeared at her side. Something was happening at the Mint, and hostages were out on the roof. Raquel got up and shot Sergio a regretful look as she left and could see the contained panic in his face as, having heard Ángel, he must be wondering the same thing she was; _What the hell was going on at the Mint?_

* * *

She had ordered the shooting of a hostage. 

A group of hostages and robbers were on the roof, she’d had no idea was going on and she had made a call. This was not supposed to happen, no one was supposed to get hurt. She desperately wanted to talk to Sergio. To find out what was going on inside the Mint, and for him to reassure her that Arturo Román would be fine. That she hadn’t just ordered the execution of a man, a hostage no less.

But she had to keep her head in the game, and she sent in a medical team at Sergio’s request. She reluctantly let Ángel enter the Mint with them, knowing full well what it entailed, that Sergio would plant a bug on him. She loathed doing that to him, but there was no way around it. Sergio needed to hear what was going on in the tent, and while Raquel wanted to go in herself Ángel was right, he was the person best placed to do it. 

The discussion about that bug though, had been one of Raquel and Sergio’s most heated during the planning phase. It came early in their new partnership, and they were both feeling the waters. Raquel had argued that he only saw the police, her colleagues, as pawns. She tried to make him see that most of them were good people, caught in a broken system, and that he was going to ruin lives with that bug. She’d eventually, reluctantly relented, and now her old friend was going to be the one subjected to it, and she absolutely hated it. 

Ángel called her that night, just as she had laid down, emotionally drained from having to play both sides while having her ex-husband breathing down her neck. He called her, and had the nerve of asking her if she would sleep with the man he’d seen holding her hand at the Hanoi. Under normal circumstances she would have told Angel to fuck off for asking that, but knowing Sergio would be listening, Raquel couldn’t help but answer that yes, she in fact would sleep with him. 

Only when she said it did she realise how true it was.

As difficult as this time had been, and as annoyed as she had been with Sergio, with the Professor, negotiating and flirting with him for almost two days now had actually proven to be quite the aphrodisiac. She never knew exactly what he would say and took great pleasure in outsmarting him and attempting to catch him by surprise. 

The bastard had taunted her for two days and she was now paying him back properly. She could imagine him huffing in shock at hearing her say she’d sleep with him, and the thought genuinely amused her. She had caught his looks in the time they had spent planning the heist together, and she knew he’d had just as much trouble as she’d had keeping his hands to himself.

So yes, she’d undoubtedly sleep with him again. In fact, she couldn’t wait to do so. 

Hearing Raquel tell detective Rubio that she would sleep with him, with Salva, caused Sergio to huff in surprise. She knew he had planted a bug on her deputy, knew he would be listening, what exactly was she playing at? When she added that she could do with a good lay, Sergio was painfully reminded of just how susceptible he was to her and how long it had been since he’d been with her. 

He generally prided himself over his self-control, always proclaiming no personal relationship would be allowed to interfere with his plan. Yet when it came to Raquel, all of his defences inevitably crumbled, and he was powerless to resist her. That day she had asked him to take her out of the city, they’d had wine in the evening and the second she’d looked him deeply in the eyes and had given him a crooked smile, he’d been all over her. And now she was saying she could do with a good lay. _Fuck_. 

But then Raquel told the deputy that what had happened between she and Rubio had been a fling, and Sergio couldn’t believe his ears. He couldn’t believe it had failed to show up in the research, couldn’t believe Raquel had kept it from him, couldn’t believe she let him know now. 

_“Tell me about deputy Inspector Rubio.”_

_“Why?” Turning on her colleagues, providing Sergio with personal information about them, was one of the parts of the plan that truly made Raquel ill at ease. She couldn’t rationalise what she was doing when she was in effect selling out people she’d worked side-by-side with for years, people who trusted her. “You already have a file on him.”_

_“He’s going to be your number two, chances are I’ll have to deal with him as well at least in some capacity. And as you’ve pointed out to me numerous times in the past year, a file doesn’t tell you everything.”_

_“I hate it when you use my words against me.”_

_“Yet you thoroughly enjoy when you get to do the same to me.”_

_Chuckling, she winked at him, “I know, it’s the darndest thing, isn’t it?” Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. “Fine. What do you want to know?”_

_“What is your relationship like?”_

_“We’re colleagues, friends. We’ve known each other for years.”_

_“Do you trust him?”_

_“I do.”_

_“Fully?”_

_Raquel thought about it. Their relationship had been strained since she’d left Alberto and had met Sergio. She’d gotten sick of Ángel’s possessiveness, of his clear interest in her. But they’d been partners for years, had backed each other up through thick and thin. “I think so.”_

_“You think so?”_

_“No, I do. I trust him.”_

_”Ok. Is there anything else you can think of that I should know?”_

_Raquel didn’t want to tell him that she’d actually slept with Ángel years prior, that he’d idolized her ever since, while she had regretted it, regretted the effect it had had on their friendship. He didn’t need to know any of that. She was allowed some privacy._

_She shook her head, “No, I don’t think so. His marriage isn’t great, but that’s all really.”_

Well, it hadn’t been all. She had had a fling with the deputy Inspector. There was history there, more than she’d let on and definitely more than she’d told him. But she offered up that information now, willingly. Was it meant for him, or for Rubio? Sergio shook his head. He was mulling over every detail of the conversation like a love-sick teenager when he needed to focus on getting some sleep to be alert for the next day. He went back to bed trying, and failing, to cast aside thoughts of Raquel, to not think of what she’d said, that she’d sleep with him. Trying, and failing, not to think of how she felt in his arms, how she smelled, how she reacted to his touch, how it felt to be inside her. 

**_Sunday, third day of the heist_ **

Their game of cat and mouse continued, and Raquel actually enjoyed solving the bits of the plan she hadn’t known about, piecing together his puzzle. In one of their exchanges, she demanded he release eight hostages, and he got nervous, making Raquel wonder if something was going seriously wrong on his end. She went to the Hanoi, hoping to find him there and get some reassurance, and called him when he wasn’t. She could tell he was surprised at her call, at her asking him out on a date, and she actually briefly feared he might turn her down. She was immensely relieved, and excited, when he didn’t. They were going to see each other that night, and she was firmly intent on getting him in private to talk everything through, and to make him pay for his taunting. Oh, she was definitely going to enjoy that part. 

She needed the CNI to think they were at least somewhat on the same page, so when Prieto insisted they take Alison Parker instead of eight other minors, she eventually relented. It was wrong, but she needed to keep Prieto on her side to make sure she’d be in the loop for whatever brainless macho-plan he’d concoct in the coming days. And this could actually work to their advantage. Sergio would never allow for the deal, he’d never let Parker go, and he could leak the recording, gaining more support for his cause. She’d take a hit though, she knew it. But she was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and had no choice. 

In the meantime, Sergio’s team had made mistakes and as a consequence, the police were tracking down the car used by the robbers, the old Seat he had taken her out to Peñalara in. She hoped Sergio would have had the time to deal with whatever issue there might be with it, suspecting it was why he’d sounded nervous earlier. The car led her and her colleagues to a scrapyard where she prayed they would find it demolished. But the moment she spotted a homeless man stumbling by, she knew it was Sergio, and she realised just how close this call had been. She did what she could to give him enough time to get away, and sent a colleague to talk to him, to keep her own back clear as she would've recognised Salva. 

They found a button in the car, and a witness who could quite possibly identify Sergio. When given the opportunity, she loudly stated the radio channel they used for the heist, hoping he might use the information. The forensic results on the button came through, and they had thus identified Andrés de Fonollosa as one of the robbers. Raquel wondered just how badly things were going on the inside for Sergio to sacrifice his brother, and counted her lucky stars that they were meeting that evening. She needed to know what the hell was going on in there.

But before her date with Sergio she found out that de Fonollosa was suffering from an incurable disease, and that he in all likelihood only had months left to live. Sergio knew the reservations she had about his brother, and the fact that he was dying only made him a greater threat. The fact that Sergio had kept this from her, tugged at her confidence in him, made the old doubts of his early lies resurface. 

Then, shots and screams were heard from the mint, and she realised he had initiated plan Valencia. As agreed, she called the Professor to demand proof of life from all the hostages and when the videos he provided failed to meet the required standards, she demanded to come in. 

Entering the mint, she was curious to meet the team whose profiles she’d known intimately for months, but particularly Sergio’s brother. She found him just as insufferable as she had expected. How this man could be related to Sergio was beyond her, they were like night and day. Aside from having to put up with de Fonollosa, being felt up by Silene Oliveira and having her time wasted, the endeavour proved unexpectedly revealing as she learned that the team had gone with city names as their aliases, and she clocked that one of the hostages, Mónica Gaztambide, was hurt. The woman hissed in apparent pain, and Raquel spotted blood on her leg. Seeing that blood, Raquel’s heart caught in her throat.

 _Someone got hurt._

A hostage got hurt, and Sergio didn’t tell her, didn’t let her know in the negotiations. On top of that, his brother was terminally ill, a fact he hadn’t shared with her, and about a thousand things had gone wrong, even though they had gone over every single step of the plan together. The floodgates open, her doubts came rushing back as she realised she yet again wasn’t privy to what was actually going on, and her faith in Sergio began to seriously waver. 

With the bug, she had put Ángel in an impossible situation, but at least she and Sergio had agreed on that aspect of the plan. But when she was back in the tent, she got a call from Ángel about a lead she’d asked him to investigate, and she realised Sergio had sacrificed him, presumably for the greater good. He had created a situation where either she, or Ángel, was a mole, and she was left with no choice but to accuse her old friend. And she hated Sergio for it. This they hadn’t agreed on, it wasn’t part of the plan, and it was the third strike.

Sergio listened as Raquel and the deputy argued. Hearing Raquel accuse her partner of many years of treason, Sergio felt like a true piece of shit. He knew how much it would hurt her to make that accusation, to betray her partner, her friend, especially knowing full well her accusations were false. He was relieved that she followed his lead and trusted the plan enough though, trusted him enough, to keep up pretences. But he imagined she had a thousand questions for him, and when Rubio lashed out at Raquel, suggesting that he, Sergio, was working her, he couldn’t help but wonder just how strong her resolve was going to be, given how much had gone wrong since the heist started. 

When they did meet up at the Hanoi though, she was playful, and delightfully flirty. Nervous about the evening, about the possibility she wanted them to rekindle their physical relationship, he had one more drink than he usually would. Not having been able to get the fact that she’d told Rubio she would sleep with him, with Salva, out of his head, Sergio felt emboldened and warned her about the risks involved with him finishing his drink, a call-back to the last time they’d had too much to drink together. 

He suggested they be less formal, as they were still in public and he wanted to make sure there was no evidence to suggest her actual role in the heist, and almost choked when she in response asked him to look under the table. He knew from their first months together that she was anything but inhibited, but he was not as free as she was, and this took it to new heights. He was stressed, yet childishly giddy, as he bent down, expecting to see the parts of her that he had been desperately missing.

Instead, his heart sank as he found himself staring down the barrel of her gun. 

Again. 


	8. Doubts

_“Great. And what do you know of your mother’s relationship with him?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“Well, for instance, how, and when, did their relationship start?”_

_“How would I know? I wasn’t there.”_

_“Are you saying you never asked your mother, or Mr. Marquina, about how and when they met?”_

_[Silence]_

_“When exactly did Sergio Marquina, also known as The Professor, first come into your life?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_“I don’t want to talk about him.”_

_“Paula…”_

_“Dad, you told me that I wouldn’t have to talk about anything I don’t want to talk about.”_

_“Paula honey, it’s important that we understand what’s happened to you, and whether anyone’s ever hurt you.”_

_“Who would’ve hurt me?”_

_“Paula, you have been missing for nine years and we have strong reasons to suspect that Sergio Marquina is the one who took you. We need to understand how you’ve been treated in those nine years.”_

_“What? He’s never hurt me. He never would. Dad, I told you that I was fine.”_

_“Please honey, just answer the question.”_

_“Why?”_

_“Paula…”_

_“No, tell me! Why is it important? I’m here, I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about mom or Sergio. I don’t. You can’t make me.”_

### 

**_Sunday, third day of the heist_ **

Raquel wouldn’t deny she enjoyed seeing the shock on Sergio’s face before he bent down to check under the table, and the terrified one as he popped back up. She demanded with a smirk that he take her to his warehouse, the one he had taken her to in the beginning of their relationship, the one she hadn’t set foot in since she confronted him. She needed privacy for the conversation they were about to have, and she needed to make sure he’d tell her the truth. Pulling a gun on him had worked last time, she hoped it would do the trick again.

As she followed him into the warehouse, she was overtaken with memories of distrust the space brought with it, and she cut straight to the chase, her gun trailed on him. 

“You didn’t tell me that one of the hostages were injured.” He turned slightly towards her while walking down the hallway. “Turn on the light. And don’t do anything stupid.”

He did as told, and she walked into the familiar space, looking around as if she was going to find evidence of whether or not he had been playing her. She walked through the warehouse, pulling off sheets covering a cider press, a jukebox, a piano… _The piano was new_. 

She had no idea what she was hoping to find. Irrefutable proof that she’d been a fool? That he’d played her from the beginning? Of course, she found no such evidence. 

This wasn’t even his operations centre; it made no sense for anything to be there. Her search was irrational, but she wasn’t sure she could handle the constant doubts anymore, and part of her wanted it all to end. To know the truth once and for all, for him to fess up that he had just been using her. That Sergio was his alter ego, the Professor his real personality.

Sergio started rambling while she searched the space. “Raquel, what’s going on? You know this place… I mean sure, I’ve added some things, but that’s just to make it more believable if anyone were to find it. The apples, the cider press, all of it.” 

He kept rambling, showing her various parts of the warehouse, trying to convince her of what, she wasn’t certain. Squaring her shoulders, she stared him down. “Your brother’s dying. Why did you keep that from me?”

Eyes darting around the room, he shifted nervously. “Raquel, I don’t understand why you’re asking me this, why...”

She cut him off with a huff. “You don’t? Well then Sergio, let me make it abundantly clear for you. The whole reason I didn’t demand to know every single detail of your plan, and the people involved, is that we agreed that you would tell me everything I actually needed to know. I trusted you to do that. And in just a few hours’ time, I find out that your brother, the man you put in charge on the inside, is dying, that one of the hostages is injured, and that you’ve single-handedly decided to sacrifice Ángel. All things that you’ve kept from me.”

Gun still trailed on him, she ordered, “Start with the hostage, Mónica Gaztambide? How did she get injured and why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

He kept his hands up in defence, “Ok, ok…”

He proceeded to tell her everything, and she learned just how bad things had gotten out of hand inside the Mint. What’s more, his brother was responsible, had ordered the execution of a hostage. Sergio had kept that from her, and she wasn’t sure what it meant. She understood why the Professor couldn’t tell the Inspector about it, since they would’ve stormed the place immediately, and that this was the first opportunity she and he had to be alone. But he could’ve found a way to let her know what had happened, should’ve found a way. Yet he was telling her now, including the role of his brother in the entire mess. Eyes darting across the room, she wasn’t yet convinced, but she was wavering.

“And Ángel?”

“You know what happened, he followed me, I had no choice but to discredit him in case he kept pursuing me.”

She huffed, not pleased with the answer, but knowing he was right. Fine, he’d managed to talk his way out of everything, but there was still one major sticking point.

“Your brother, why didn’t you tell me about him? You knew about his illness when we were planning, didn’t you?”

He looked lost and didn’t answer her, only nodded in confirmation. She kept her gun on him and continued. “You want to know what I think? I think you didn’t tell me about de Fonollosa precisely because you knew that I never would’ve agreed to have someone with his record enter, knowing that that person had literally nothing to lose. And _that_ omission, makes me question your commitment to this partnership. Because I’ve put everything at stake here Sergio, on the trust that you’re not leading me around by my fucking nose.”

Sergio shook his head, torn between his brother and Raquel. He’d found out about Ándres’ condition during his planning with Raquel, and hadn’t been able to bring himself to sharing with her. Speaking of it would’ve made it real, and he couldn’t handle it being real.

“No, you’re wrong.” He spoke with a decisiveness he didn’t feel, and his tone seemed to surprise her. “I didn’t tell you because I’ve been refusing to accept it. My brother is dying Raquel, do you have any idea how that feels? He’s my brother for fucks sake. The only family I have left…” He looked at her with tears in his eyes and repeated, softly, “He’s my brother.”

 _Fuck._

There he was. Any façade of the Professor or Salva gone, Raquel saw the face of the man she’d decided to join even though she knew he’d lied to her for the first five months of their relationship. The man she’d stuck by for a year, the man who’d stuck by her for a year, who’d made her laugh, who’d helped her heal. He was the genius planning this heist, yet a man unable to deal with his own emotions, with the prospect of losing his brother. 

Five months apart had been too long. Too much had happened in her life in his absence, and these past three days had put too much pressure on her. She’d lost her bearings. But this was her partner, this was Sergio.

His voice interrupted her thoughts, “You spread lies about him. To the press.”

_Shit._

She’d been angry with Sergio in that moment for keeping the information from her, and she wanted to get the CNI on her side, so she’d agreed to leak the false information. After a year and a half of telling Sergio that de Fonollosa was unfit to lead, and after finding out Sergio had lied to her, she got her revenge. And it tasted bitter as hell.

“I’m sorry, Sergio. I shouldn’t have done that.” She shot him an apologetic look and when he gave her a small nod in response, she felt like they were finally them again, on the same page. 

She began looking around the warehouse, “This place brings back a lot of memories.” She put her gun away, and rambled about being embarrassed as she wandered around the space, re-familiarising herself with it. 

Sergio shook his head, unsure of why she was embarrassed. Unsure she would stay, desperate for her to do so. She walked around the coffee table, putting her purse down on it. “You know, I’ve been trying to come up with a way to… make you pay.” 

She ran a hand over her face, as though she was still trying to figure out what she wanted to do next.

“Make me pay?”

“Well yes”, she was coming closer and closer and he was unable to think straight. “I specifically told you not to use sexism in the negotiations, and what did you end up doing?” 

His eyes darted across the room and she poked him in the chest, an eyebrow raised. “You ended up asking me about my orgasms.”

He laughed nervously, swallowing hard, “You’ve already slammed me into a counter for that.”

“You think that’s enough?” When he didn’t answer, she asked, “Why did you do it?”

“I… I… Because of what you told me.”

“What I told you?”

“Yes. About briefing my team about you. Pretend like I didn’t know you, and do it the way I would have if we hadn’t met.”

Stunned at his cluelessness, Raquel just stared at him. “You think this is a similar situation?”

He nodded, “I… Didn’t know how to choose, didn’t know which was the objectively best approach. So, I pretended I didn’t know you.”

“God, you really are an idiot.”

Raquel chuckled and he laughed unsurely. She was getting dangerously close to him and their laughter soon died down. She eyed him with an unreadable look, and Sergio’s breath hitched. He wasn’t sure what she wanted from him, though he knew without a doubt what he wanted. He wanted her.

She had told him they were over when she found out the truth about him, a year and a half ago, but now she was standing so close, and he could’ve sworn he recognised the look in her eyes from their first five months together. He could smell her, and the feeling overwhelmed him, bringing back vivid memories of all the time they’d spent together. It had been far too long since he’d been this close to her. 

He kept his eyes trailed on her, unsure of what was to come, when she pressed her lips against his. He could barely register that he should react, and only just managed to close his lips on hers, as he swallowed hard, not believing this was actually happening. 

She pulled back eyeing him softly, almost questioningly. As if he didn’t want this, hadn’t wanted it since the moment they bumped into one another two years earlier, hadn’t wanted for her to know everything and still want to be with him. He stood frozen as she kissed him again, capturing his upper lip, and he allowed himself to react, to accept that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him, that this was real. His hands came up to frame her face as he deepened the kiss, and it felt like coming home. Hearing her soft moan as he slipped his tongue into her mouth, he couldn’t think of a decent reason why they had deprived themselves of this for so long.

She pulled back and swore to him that she’d never pull a gun on him again. He answered “good”, and kissed her again. She pulled away once more to say she’d never frisk or doubt him again. He nodded, not really caring, nor quite believing her, but just needing to keep kissing her. She still had things on her mind though, and spoke against his lips. “Or doubt you again, _Sergio_.” 

He looked at her, pausing, wondering what she was trying to say, why she had accentuated his name. She chuckled and added, amused, “I think it’s time to stop pretending we don’t have a personal relationship, don’t you think?”

He nodded; he would have agreed with anything she said in that moment. He didn’t care that she was teasing him about breaking his own rules. “Yes, I think so.” 

He removed his jacket, and she mimicked his actions. They kissed, she removed his tie, and they came apart briefly as he began unbuttoning his shirt before she took over the task. He picked her up and carried her a few feet but soon put her back down, needing to focus on the feeling of her lips on his, his tongue caressing hers and her hands in his hair. She pressed herself against him and moaned into his mouth and he could no longer contain himself. He removed her top, paused to take in the sight of her in her bra, but as their eyes met, he caught the familiar arousal reflected in them and quickly picked her back up, carrying her to the sofa and kissing her as he brought her down over him.

He had missed her more than he could ever express and was intent on proving that, along with his commitment to her and their plan. _Their_ plan. It had stopped being his plan the first time she’d pulled her gun on him and he’d come clean to her. Her fingerprints were all over it, and it had gotten stronger thanks to her.

She was on top of him, and one of his legs was between hers, but her skirt was in the way, and he needed to get closer. He rose, pushed her down on her back and freed her from her skirt.

He devoted himself fully to her body, trailing kisses everywhere, letting his hands run over her soft skin. Intending to make the most of their time together and taking great pleasure in seeing how her body reacted to him, Sergio ignored her clear indications that she wanted him inside her as soon as possible, and took his time, removing first her bra, re-discovering her breasts as she shivered with pleasure under him, one hand in his hair. He kissed his way down her body and removed her underwear, positioning himself between her legs. She spread her legs for him as he kissed her inner thigh before moving to her clit. 

He began nibbling at her, and elicited a loud moan accompanied by a “fuck” when he licked the entire length of her. She tasted the same, an intoxicating mix of tangy and sweet and he took great pleasure in alternating between sucking and nibbling at her swollen folds. Recognising her tells that she was getting close, he slid two fingers into her as he increased the pressure with his tongue. She came undone as he angled his fingers upwards and he kept licking her until she pushed him away, needing a break. He kissed his way back up her body as she recovered, revelling in the way she allowed him full access to her body.

He laid down on top of her, painfully erect, and was nibbling at her neck when she wrapped her legs around him, pulled him close as he groaned, and whispered, “Sergio, you’re still wearing your clothes and I would very much like for you to fuck me now.”

Grinning, he rid himself of his clothes and admired the sight of a naked, flushed Raquel waiting for him, biting her lip in anticipation. He positioned himself on top of her again and growled at the sensation of entering her warm, wet entrance. It was entirely overwhelming, and he quickly set a rough pace. She had asked to be fucked, and he was more than happy to oblige. Feeling he was about to erupt though, he slowed down, only to feel her legs tighten around him and her bucking against him faster. He shot her a surprised look, and she smirked back.

“I told you I wanted you to fuck me. It’s been too damn long.”

He nodded and let himself go with a few thrusts, barely registering her moaning his name as she came with him.

Lying in his leather sofa, closely intertwined, Sergio was stroking her arm, lingering on her scar, “You’re not wearing the tape anymore.”

“Oh. No.”

“I hated that that happened.”

She chuckled lightly, letting her hand run over his chest, “I wasn’t a fan of it myself.”

He wanted to tell her it had made him realise he could lose her, that the thought had terrified him, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the words, and let his fingers trace the scar instead. 

Raquel getting hurt reminded him of something he’d yet been able to acknowledge to her. He squeezed her closer and said in a low voice, “Thank you for telling me about Alberto.”

He felt her tense against him and feared he’d made a mistake, but she soon relaxed again, and began playing with his chest hair. “How long had you known?”

“Since you pressed charges.”

“Mmm… I thought you might.” 

He squeezed her tighter, “When I read it, it took all I had not to leave my team in Toledo and come find you.”

Humming knowingly, she pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Her fingers running over his chest, she kept her gaze on them. “How much did you read?”

“Not much. I couldn’t read your statement… It didn’t feel right.”

“I appreciate that, Sergio.”

“How has it been since you pressed charges?”

She took a deep breath. “Awful. Worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“I… Don’t know what to say.” All he knew was that he wished he could have been there for her.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“So am I.”

“I meant what I said Raquel, if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

She buried her face in his shoulder, her voice coming out muffled. “Thank you. To be honest I… Just your reaction today helped. No one’s really believed me and… It’s been a lot, I’ve felt trapped. And pretty fucking alone.”

Sergio let his fingers run up and down her arm, and eventually asked, “Is this why you wanted to get out of the city? That day we went to Peñalara?”

She nodded against him, “It’s the day I found out he was dating Marta, my sister. It was the worst blow. My baby sister. I was supposed to protect her, and instead I brought a monster right to her doorstep.”

“I don’t understand how it’s possible though… That she started seeing your ex-husband.”

“Neither do I… But she’s a victim too. If anyone had told me once I’d fallen for Alberto what he was really like, I wouldn’t have believed them either. I was already in his clutches.” She sighed heavily, “As is she.”

“And how’s Paula taking it?”

“You heard what I told Ángel about the latest thing Alberto did?”

“Asking Paula if she wanted to live with him?”

Raquel nodded and answered with a voice heavy with regret and sorrow, “She said that she did, Sergio. I could actually lose my daughter.”

He’d hating hearing it through the bug in the deputy’s glasses. He’d wrecked her reputation leaking that tape, and now it was going to be used against her in a custody battle. Sergio was convinced he was ruining her life, yet Raquel was there, and she didn’t seem to blame him for any of her woes. 

He kissed the top of her head, “We won’t let that happen.” He didn’t know how, but he was determined not to let it happen.

“Promise me?”

He looked at her quizzingly and she took a deep breath, knowing he wouldn’t like the implications of what she was about to ask him. “If anything should go wrong, if anything happens to me. You need to make sure Paula is safe. Away from him.”

“Raquel...”

“Please. Can you please… I need to know that my daughter will be safe. And she’s not safe with him.”

He was about to protest, but she insisted, pleading with a small voice, “Please.”

Nodding, he answered, “Alright, I promise.”

She kissed him gratefully and settled back into his side.

Raquel had gone to the bathroom, putting on her underwear as she did, and he put on his boxers as he too got up to have a drink of water. Coming out of the bathroom, she dragged him back and laid down next to him in the sofa they barely fit in, the one they’d spent so much time in in the first five months of their relationship. He held her close, partly so she wouldn’t fall off, partly because he’d been craving the contact for a year and seven months.

He felt her peering at him and asked, amused, “What?”

He chuckled at her answer that it was nothing. Knowing her by now, he asked again, “What?” 

Smiling as she realised she was caught, Raquel tilted her head, taking him in. “It’s just… I don’t know… Without the glasses, I’m reminded that you’re two different people.”

Sergio briefly feared what she meant by it, dreading she thought he hadn’t been honest with her, and blinked unsurely, but Raquel quickly eased his worries as she added, laughing, “Like… Superman and Clark Kent.”

They both laughed at the absurdity of the analogy, of their situation in general, Raquel feeling intensely relieved at finally being able to stop pretending, at finally being able to just be. To not have to lie to anyone for a few hours. And to be with him after so much time. He cracked a joke about her preferring him with glasses, and put them back on as she buried her face in his neck, laughing.

“Today is a special day.” 

He turned to her, and she was hit by the intensity of his gaze, by the heavy subtext of his words. She took the time to simply consider him, and caught the air of insecurity in his hazel eyes as he asked, “Better?”

Words failing her, the intensity of the moment overpowering, the only thing Raquel could think to do was to kiss him. He hugged her tighter, but she soon pulled back, caressing his face as they broke apart.

“You need to dial it down, Sergio.”

“Dial what down?”

“The sexism. I really wish you hadn’t settled on that tactic.”

“I’m sorry Raquel, I didn’t realise what I was doing. I can’t see clearly when it comes to you, so I think sometimes I overcompensate.”

She smiled, as if she hadn't noticed. “I know.”

“You do?”

She hummed in response. “Look. You can’t change tactics altogether now, it wouldn’t make any sense but just… Dial it down, would you?”

He nodded and she pinched him. “And if you want to know if I’ve ever faked an orgasm with you, all you need to do is ask…”

He chuckled nervously and she looked up at him in challenge. When he didn’t say anything, she purred “Coward”, kissed the side of his mouth and settled back into him, letting her fingers run over his chest.

“How did you settle on city names?”

“Like you suggested, I let them decide.”

“You suggested numbers, didn’t you?”, she asked knowingly.

“Maybe.”

She shifted to lie on top of him, “I’ve been dying to know what you ended up using, you know. And which team member would be what.” She let her fingers play with his beard, “City names… What would be mine?”

“They got to pick for themselves, I’ll extend the same curtesy to you.”

She smiled and leaned in for a kiss, “So generous.”

“So, what do you pick?”

He picked up her right hand and started leaving small kisses all over it, rendering her unable to form a cohesive answer. “Mmmm...”

“Milano?”, a kiss on her the palm of her hand. “Monrovia?”, another at the base of her thumb. “Minnesota?”, a kiss and small suck of her thumb. “Marrakesh?”, a kiss on her wrist.

Struggling to focus, she laughed as he continued, accentuating each city with a kiss. “Mekele? Medina? Medellín?” 

“Are you showing off, Professor?”

“Depends… Is it working?”

She took his face in her hands and kissed him in answer. He could feel her smiling against his lips, a sensation he’d never tire of. 

“I have no idea though, I’m drawing a blank.”

“How about Lisboa?”

“Lisboa?” She pulled back and eyed him curiously, “How come?”

He shrugged, “It’s short and no-nonsense, just like you.”

She looked slightly offended, “I’m not short.”

“You’re not tall.”

She snorted and laid her head back on his shoulder. “Lisboa, huh?”

He nodded, “You told me you went on a vacation there with your mother, father, and sister as a child, that it was one of the best vacations you’d had together.”

He didn’t tell her that since the moment she stated she’d help him with his plan, that he had dreamt of asking her to meet him there after the heist so they could drive to a port about an hour away and board the boat that would take him and his team to freedom, together. “You like it?”

She kissed the side of his mouth, “I do.”

“Good.”

She shifted off him, settling back into his side, “Now tell me about your team, what happened in those five months?”

Telling her about his time at the house in Toledo, he was yet again struck by just how much he’d longed to talk to her about the team she’d helped him assemble. He told her how right she’d been about Nairobi, that she made for a great addition, and of how surprised he’d been to find out that Río and Tokyo had been sleeping together. 

Raquel laughed heartily. “You were surprised? Sergio, it was bound to happen. You locked them up for five months, told them they were about to risk their lives, and you expected them _not_ to have sex?” She shot him a pointed look. “Really, I told you your “no personal relationships” rule wouldn’t work.”

“I know, I know…” Amused, he thought that if he had to pay her a penny for every time she’d been right in the time they’d known each other, he probably would have to hand over his entire share of the earnings from the heist. He wanted to keep talking to her about the past five months, but regretfully felt Raquel pull away and sit up.

“The thing is… I can’t stay the night. I’m sorry.” 

He wasn’t ready for her to leave and tried coaxing her into staying, but the moment she mentioned Paula, he backed off. She put her bra and top back on, much to his dismay, then looked towards the keyboard.

“That piano is new. Do you play?”

He nodded and got up to play for her, pretending they weren’t in the middle of the biggest heist of either of their lives, and she soon joined him on the piano chair. He would’ve happily spent the rest of his life sharing a piano stool with Raquel, playing for her, making her laugh, making her look at him with her eyebrows raised in amusement. 

Sitting on the stool next to Sergio, Raquel tried to think where she knew that melody from. She chuckled as she realised what he was playing, it was a tune from a movie about an elaborate heist. The Sting, if she wasn’t mistaken. Cheeky bastard. 

He thought she was leaving, and his heart skipped a beat when she instead lunged at him, capturing his lips, darting her tongue into his mouth. He knew she wouldn’t stay the night, but he’d happily take any additional time with her he could have. 

Kissing him hard, Raquel climbed over him, straddling him. She made them both groan as she began grinding against him while removing the shirt he’d only just put back on. She broke the kiss and ran her hands down his chest and one into his boxers. Stroking him, she leaned in and hovered just above his lips.

Too hard to be able to think clearly, the feel of Raquel’s hand around his dick all-consuming, he failed to register the grin on her face before she purred, “You like that?”

He swallowed hard, choked out “Uh-hum”, and tried to kiss her but she pulled back and tightened her hold on him, causing him to groan in blissful agony.

“Is there anything more you want to know about my orgasms, Professor?” She bit into his lower lip and sucked at it. “Hmm?”

He swallowed hard, shaking his head. She lingered just above his lips, stroking him quicker, “And are you going to keep asking me what I’m wearing?”

He shook his head vehemently and she slowed down again.

“Good. Are you going to keep _thinking_ about what I’m wearing?”

He grinned, eyes trailed on her lips. “Undoubtedly.”

“I thought you might.” Releasing him from his boxers, Raquel sunk down unto him with a soft moan. “Professor?”

He hummed in response, his eyes trailed on her lips.

“You like negotiating with me?”

She was impossibly wet, soft and warm around him and he could barely keep up with her. “I really do, Inspector.”

He let his hands travel down her back and snuck his hands into her underwear, grabbing her ass and pushing himself further into her, eliciting a low growl from her, “God.” 

Smirking as he began thrusting into her, she murmured, “I do too”, then kissed him deeply as she picked up the pace. He was pushing himself into her deeper and deeper and her breathing became shallow, her entire body aware of every single touch, every thrust bringing her closer to her third orgasm of the night. Flexing her muscles around him, she pulled back to take him in, one hand at the nape of his neck, the other coming down to rub his shaft. Feeling him emptying himself in her, Raquel let herself go as well, back arched, holding onto Sergio as her body convulsed around him. 

She held him tight as they both recovered, caressed his cheek with a small smile and kissed him softly before getting off of him. She put her skirt on and Sergio enveloped her from behind, planting kisses on her neck, tickling her. Untangling from him as she laughed, she finished getting dressed, put her shoes on and grabbed her bag. 

He followed her down the hallway and opened the door for her, “I’ll see you soon?”

She nodded, put a hand to his chest and kissed him before heading out, feeling at ease for the first time in five months.

**_Monday, fourth day of the heist_ **

Everything other than their time together went to hell that night. Ángel had gotten drunk, crashed his car, and was in a critical condition, and it was all her fault. Raquel was in a haze. Her partner of years got drunk and flipped his car over because she had accused him of being a traitor, knowing full well he wasn’t one.

She was the one, she was the traitor. 

And while Ángel was fighting for his life, she’d been fucking the brains out of the mastermind behind the heist. And to top it off, several hostages had managed to flee. She felt like she was falling, when just a few hours prior she’d felt calm and confident that she and Sergio could pull this off together. But maybe they couldn’t, it was all very clearly going straight to hell.

She rushed to the hospital, her heart sinking at the sight of Ángel in that hospital bed. This was her fault, it was all her fault. How could she have thought this would work out? She knew Ángel, she should have known he wouldn’t calmly sit back and wait for the accusations against him to be cleared. Faced with the possibility of losing his job, his reputation, she should’ve bloody known he would do something stupid. 

The crushing guilt was further augmented when his wife came in, asked what had happened, asked why Ángel had called her sixteen times that night, why she hadn’t answered. What was she supposed to say? That she’d had the night she hadn’t known she’d longed for for the past five months, probably even longer than that? That she'd been busy giving herself over completely to the man partially responsible for Ángel’s current condition, crumbling under his touch, coming over and over again?

She felt like she couldn’t breath. Or like she was going to throw up. Or both. Having no idea what to do with herself, she went home, got changed, and headed back to the tent, feeling detached, like she was stuck in a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from.

Back in the tent, it provided her little comfort to know that the bug in Ángel’s glasses had been found, that he was clear of any suspicion. She finally listened to the vile messages he had left her that night. 

_“I’m not the mole, for fuck’s sake.”_

_“Why the hell aren’t you answering?”_

_“You’re a fucking bitch!”_

_“You’re going to ruin my life.”_

She felt worse with every message. If only he’d known how right he was. 

She had ruined his life. 

If he didn’t pull through, she’d be directly responsible for his… for his death. She had sealed Ángel’s fate the moment she’d stayed with Sergio that night after she’d confronted him, over a year and a half ago. 

She couldn’t take it anymore. 

She wandered out of the tent, towards the Mint, towards the building that had become the symbol of her guilt, of her bad decisions. 

She just kept walking, completely unaware of whatever might be going on around her until someone grabbed her, and she was brought back to the tent. They gave her a sedative and she called the only person who could even begin to understand the level of guilt she felt, asking him to come get her. But Sergio was cold, said he couldn’t, that there was something he needed to do, then hung up on her while she was still talking, and she was alone again, unsure of what was happening.

Sergio returned to the hangar, a foolish grin plastered on his face. It was the grin of a man who thought that just because he’d spent a few blissful hours with Raquel Murillo, the real world would have somehow stopped spinning for a while. 

She had doubted him. He’d made mistakes, hadn’t been as open as he should’ve been with her, taking her trust for granted, and as a result she’d pulled her gun on him again. He’d briefly wondered if she would actually shoot him this time, but more than that he’d hated seeing the doubt in her eyes again. She hadn’t feared him this time, nor had he seen traces of hate in her eyes, but she’d looked at him in doubt, unsure of where she stood with him. And he had cursed himself for it. He needed to do better. For her, and for the plan.

But he’d again gotten lost in the moment, in her, and had subsequently forgotten to tell her that her deputy had followed him to the actual hangar, that he knew the location of it. He should have told her, they needed to talk about it. But she had kissed him, and he’d again lost all reason, desperate to be close to her, to keep the world at bay for just a few precious hours. To focus only on her, on them.

The moment he reached his desk and glanced at the screens though, he became painfully aware of just how much he’d been mistaken, that the world hadn’t stood still, that it had in fact kept spinning at a merciless pace. That while he had been happy for a few hours, everything had gone wrong inside the Mint. Hostages had escaped, and now his team was under assault. Unable to assist them, he could only watch as they fought back the special forces and regained control of the situation. Then they demanded answers from him about why the hell he hadn’t warned them.

Answers he couldn’t give. 

And then he saw the news that Rubio had been in a car accident, that he was badly hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt, and now two people were fighting for their lives: Oslo, and the Deputy Inspector. It was too much, and he needed to clear his head.

Working out gave him the clarity and perspective that he needed, and it brought him back to the very essential, the only thing that mattered: his plan. He’d been right all along, there was no room for personal relationships. If he hadn’t spent several hours with Raquel the previous night, then none of this would be happening, no one would have gotten hurt. 

So, he braced himself for what he knew he needed to do. He needed to stay objective, focus on the plan, keep a clear head.

And that meant no Raquel. He was going to end things with her. They were associates, had even been friends, but they couldn’t be lovers. That night had proven that much to him. He was going to tell her they were through, that from now on there would only be the Professor and the Inspector. They would negotiate, they would get through this heist, but that would be it. Sergio firmly ignored the voice that asked him, _then what?_ The voice that reminded him that in the two years that he’d known her he’d never been able to resist her, that he’d spent the past five months pining for her, that whenever things had gone wrong, he’d wished she was at his side.

He pushed that voice far away, consumed with guilt, convinced that the current mess was all his fault. Convinced there was only one way forward.

To cap it all off he had a message from Raquel’s mother, relaying a message she’d gotten from the Deputy Inspector. It seemed he had identified him as the Professor, and Sergio felt like he was falling. There were too many moving pieces to contain. He needed to make sure Mariví wouldn’t call anyone else with that message, and that no traces would be left of it. 

Just as he was trying to figure out how to deal with the situation, Raquel called asking if he could pick her up, saying she needed to get out of the city. He wanted nothing more than to take Raquel and leave all this behind, but he had already indulged in spending part of the night with her, and the consequences of that choice had been catastrophic. He couldn’t do this. He’d been right to say there should be no personal relationships. So, he told her he couldn’t. He was going to deal with her mother, and then they would go back to the way things had been, where they were associates. Friends maybe, but no more. Definitely not lovers. 

He decided to deal with one issue at the time and headed to Raquel’s house, introduced himself as Salva to Mariví and asked to borrow the phone. He deleted the message and upon seeing she’d written it down on post-it notes took those as well. He told her he’d given Raquel the message, that she needn’t worry about it, and realised when she asked him what message he was talking about that she must be getting forgetful. He felt a pang of regret for Raquel. He had dragged her into this mess, as if she didn’t have enough on her plate already, dealing with an abusive ex-husband, a daughter, and apparently a forgetful mother as well. And Sergio knew how close she was to her mother. 

He stayed for a coffee, thinking he’d end things with Raquel when she came back, yet the moment she walked through the door and hugged him, his resolve to do so yet again crumbled. 

“Armed to the teeth.”

 _Explosion. Armed to the teeth._ While Raquel was still in a haze, the wheels in her head started turning at Sergio’s words and she looked up at him, the pieces starting to fall into place. She’d told him she’d find the house, and she finally had a lead to doing just that. Toledo, it had to be in Toledo. On a large estate.

It amazed him that with everything that was happening, she still found the resolve to do her job and call her colleagues, barking orders at them about how to locate the house where Sergio and his team had trained. He wanted to ask how she’d figured it out, but she excused herself, saying she needed to rest, and laid down on her bed. 

Sergio laid down next to her and suddenly couldn’t imagine his life without her in it. It had been two years and she had become the person he confided in, the first person he wanted to talk to when something happened, good or bad. He didn’t want any harm to come to her or her family, but what’s more, he wanted to be there for her. 

He gently brushed some hair off her face, and sighed. He couldn’t end things with her. He was well and truly fucked. How had he not seen it sooner? 

He was head over heels in love with Raquel.

Her phone rang, she shot up to answer it and when she hung up, turned to him. “We’ve found the house in Toledo.”

He nodded, “That’s fine, we knew you might.”

She shot him a pointed look, reminding him he was convinced she wouldn’t. “Are you sure everything is clean there?”

Sergio adjusted his glasses, “Of course I am.”

“It’s just… A lot of things have gone wrong so far. What if you missed something at the house?”

“I didn’t miss anything.”

She sighed and rubbed her temples. “I’m not suggesting that you did, but what if?”

He wasn’t sure where she was heading with this. “What’s your point Raquel?”

“Look. I’m in no condition to drive, maybe you could drive me over there and stick around in case we find something.”

“You won’t…”

She cut him off, “Just in case Sergio. We can’t afford for anything else to go wrong.”

He shook his head, “It’s too risky.”

“It’s too risky not to. At least if you’re there, you have a chance to intercept any evidence we might find.”

“Surrounded by police officers?”

She gave him a crooked smile as she shrugged, “Easier there, then once the evidence is in the lab.”

As uncomfortable as he was to be there when the police searched through the Toledo-house, Raquel turned out to be right. Needing to remain beyond reproach, she had called in her ex-husband to canvass the crime scene, and he had found something. Sergio managed to get a ride back to Madrid with him, and he could barely contain his disdain for the man, knowing what he’d put Raquel through, what he was continuing to put her through. Sergio easily picked a fight with Alberto, incapacitated him, and intercepted the evidence he’d collected. It also got him arrested, but he managed to call Raquel and hoped she could help. If she couldn’t, he’d be done for once they processed his fingerprints. 

Sergio called while she was interrogating Tokyo. He’d managed to get himself arrested, and Raquel prayed for two things. One, that he’d been able to destroy the evidence Alberto had collected at the crime scene, and two, that he’d yet to be processed. If they ran his fingerprints, that would be it. Sure, they had a plan for that eventuality, but it would mean things were about to get even messier, and she didn’t want to have to rely on any outsiders. Not to mention she would have to just sit and wait for others to carry on the heist, and to liberate Sergio, and sitting things out was not her forte. 

But she couldn’t rush out of the tent without raising suspicions, not with Tokyo there. She counted on the infamous inefficiency of the police station in Canillas to work to her advantage for once. And she knew Tokyo wouldn’t talk, or at least she shouldn’t if she followed Sergio’s instructions. She’d be out of there quickly.

Getting to the police station, it was her turn to raise hell, to cause a scene. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it, knowing full well it might come back to bite her in the ass later. It seemed increasingly unlikely that Sergio would manage to keep his identity secret and once that was out, it wouldn’t take long for suspicion to fall on her. 

She got Sergio, ripped up his fingerprints and walked out of the police station with him. They both breathed a sigh of relief as they walked to the car she’d parked on a side street. Rounding the corner, she grabbed his collar and pulled him to her, kissing him roughly. Letting his tongue swirl around hers, he backed her up against the wall, ignoring his soar chest.

She eventually broke this kiss, and looked at him with concern, hands at the nape of his neck. “Don’t get arrested again.”

He shook his head.

“Did you get the evidence from the fireplace?”

He nodded, and she kissed him again before releasing him with a heavy sigh. 

She gave him a ride and filled him in on the fact that Tokyo had been arrested, that she’d been unceremoniously tossed out of the Mint, that she was holding up for the moment and hadn’t told them anything. Cursing, Sergio said he’d call the tent as soon as he figured out what the hell was happening on the inside.

As she got back, Raquel fished out whether Prieto knew anything about the teaspoon Ángel had handed in to forensics, with Sergio’s fingerprints. Alberto had told her back in Toledo that Ángel had handed in a set of prints, that he’d gotten hold of a spoon, and that the prints matched those of the person assisting the robbers from the outside. She tried her best to keep a straight face and not give away the relief she felt when Prieto told her he was clueless about where Ángel had found the spoon. 

She raised the notion that Ángel’s car had been tampered with, needing to vent the idea, telling herself it was a logical trail she would’ve followed under any normal circumstances. It gnawed at her though, this feeling that she was betraying Sergio for doing her job. Playing both sides was wearing her out, and she could tell she was no longer certain of where she stood, of what was real and what wasn’t. 

Shaking herself out of it, she returned to Tokyo, pressuring her some more, and much to her surprise and dismay, got Sergio’s name out of her. So much for that advantage. Raquel walked up to Tokyo, very much wanting to slap her for folding so easily. Luckily, Sergio called before the woman could reveal anything more than his name and the fact that the plan had been his father’s idea.

She let him know that Tokyo had given up his name, and he had in turn reassured both her and Tokyo that they could continue with the interrogation. Taking the cue, Tokyo refused to cooperate, and Raquel sent her off, then called the Professor.

Though there was light flirting, he seemed off his game and Raquel wondered what he’d found out about why Tokyo had been thrown to the wolves. He soon enough reverted to his old tactics though, and asked, “Remember the first time you made love?”

Raquel rolled her eyes, smirking. This was his version of dialling it down, but now that she understood why he’d settled on this tactic, and that he’d genuinely apologised for it, she wasn’t annoyed anymore. If anything, it now seemed like a game between them, one which allowed them to have conversations whose meaning no one else was privy to.

“Where did it happen?” 

She couldn’t stop the smile from spreading; if he was going to taunt her, she was going to taunt him right back. Instead of telling him the story of her first time, she used one of their times together, from when they’d been dating. 

“In a camping tent.”

“That’s wonderful.” She could’ve sworn she heard the delight through that metallic voice. “That’s a good place for a first time.”

 _It was your idea_ , Raquel thought. He’d taken her out to the countryside after they’d been seeing each other for a little over a month. 

“The sound of the countryside, the lights…”

She laughed, he really had been quite pleased with himself when he’d shily led her to the spot where he’d set up the tent for them. “Yes, that’s right.” 

It was thrilling to have this conversation with the entire tent listening. And she knew she’d catch Sergio off guard with what she was about to say. “The rest was, let’s say… experimental and … brief.”

He huffed nervously. He remembered that time very vividly. The tent was small, the sleeping bags he’d zipped together even more so, they barely had any room to manoeuvre, and he had indeed not lasted long. 

He had been in Italy to see his brother, and had thus not seen Raquel for a few days, and she had been impossibly wet, had moaned against him when he entered her and had proceeded to wrap her legs around him as she bucked against him, growling at him to fuck her before the tent collapsed. He had, and the tent had collapsed not long after, causing them both to crawl out from under it, buck naked, Raquel laughing so hard she’d been utterly unhelpful in getting the tent back up.

As much as he enjoyed negotiating with Raquel, too much was happening. Nairobi had incapacitated Berlin and had taken charge in the Mint, Tokyo was arrested and had given up his name, and it was evident from his call with Raquel that the police currently had the upper hand. Raquel must have noticed he was nervous, as she called him, Salva, right after hanging up with the Professor. 

He didn’t want to answer, having no idea what he was going to tell her. He had no answers for her, felt that everything was going wrong. But he did answer, and she asked him how he was holding up, the question clearly meant to reassure him slightly. She invited him over that night and he thought it was a terrible idea, that he should stay by the screens, that they couldn’t afford another disaster. But he felt utterly overwhelmed, her voice soothed him, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into her arms.

He met Paula for the first time. The girl had inherited Raquel’s ability to make him squirm, demanding to know if he was dating her mother. He saw Raquel with new eyes that night. He’d known her for two years, but he realised now they’d been in a bubble. He’d known she was a mother, a daughter. But now he witnessed it, and she amazed him even more. 

Sitting on her bed after dinner, she handed him a glass of wine and asked him what he’d done to Alberto. Their overwhelming attraction to one another quickly ended the conversation though. Now that they had picked up their physical relationship again, they were right back where they started: unable to keep away from each other for very long, the irresistible foreplay going head-to-head in the negotiations was further egging them on.

After a hesitant start, both feeling awkward at the domesticity of the situation, that they were in her house, in her bed, together, they kissed hungrily, battling for control, fighting to be in charge, just as they did while negotiating. Raquel thought she might come on the spot when she managed to climb onto him, and pulled back, breathing heavily. 

She wanted to savour this moment, it almost feeling like their first one. In a bed, in a home, without lies, with no one needing to leave. Cradling his cheeks, she let one finger run over his lips, smiling as he kissed it.

She began removing his tie and his hands came to rest on her hips. She could feel his erection pressing against her but she took her time unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it over his shoulders. She let her hands run up his arms and over his chest, and groaned in surprise when he pressed her closer to him with a smirk.

His hands snuck in under her sweater, his fingers burning against her skin. He brought the sweater over her head, paused to take her in, then removed her bra. Smirking, he gave her an anticipating look before he launched at her breast, taking her nipple in his mouth, giving it the smallest bite then sucking on it with fervour.

So much for taking her time… The combination of his mouth on her nipple, alternating between sucking and flicking it with his tongue, and the fact that she felt him grow even harder as he did, was all too much for Raquel and grinding against him, she soon felt the tingling relief overtake her and she came cursing his name, his mouth still on her breast, his hands still on her thighs.

He gave her no time to recover but flipped her over with a hungry grin, kissing his way down her body until he reached her trousers. Removing both them and her underwear, he could feel the heat radiating from her and placed himself at her centre, tracing her entrance with his tongue. He sucked his way up her clit, eliciting another low moan from her, and he looked up at her in awe, “You’re so wet.”

“You do that to me.” 

She reached down and brought his head up to her, kissing him hard, tasting herself on his lips. She unbuckled his trousers and slid them off his hips, using her feet when she could no longer reach with her hands. Chuckling, he quickly freed himself of his remaining clothes and positioned himself on top of her, making them both gasp as his hard cock entered her slowly, purposefully. 

He clasped her hands and brought them up over her, as he moved deeper into her, watching her bite her lower lip as he did. She opened her eyes and the force of the moment hit him. He could feel her breasts against his chest, he was inside her, their hands were joined, and she had a hint of a smile on her face as she gazed into his eyes, into his soul it seemed. This was what his brother had been talking about, what he’d been convinced would never happen to him. 

Love. 

He kissed her, losing himself in her, in the moment. Raquel met his increased thrusts, holding onto the headboard with their linked hands and just as he thought he couldn’t last any longer, he felt her contract around him, her head tilted backwards, and he followed her with a grunt. Where her first orgasm had been small, this one was powerful and he kept planting small kisses on her neck until she no longer shook against him.

Raquel was lying on her stomach, head resting on her arms, and Sergio let his fingers run over her shoulder blade, “I missed this spot right here.”

Humming, she considered him softly, “You did?”

He nipped at the spot and hummed his response against her skin, sending a shiver through her.

“That spot specifically?”

“Yes. It’s my spot.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“It is. I claimed it as my own two years ago.”

 _Two years ago._ His declaration overwhelmed Raquel and she shifted closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder and draping herself over him. She kissed his chest and as his arm came around to hold her close, let herself fall asleep, finally in his arms, no lies or doubts between them anymore.

She pushed away the small voice, deep within, that told her to remember what she’d found out, that Ángel had identified Sergio as the Professor, and that he was now in the hospital, fighting for his life. The small voice that asked her if Sergio knew about it, if he might have played a role in it, if maybe she didn’t know what exactly he was capable of.


	9. Losing one's way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is most welcome!

_“No one’s trying to make you do anything. We’re just trying to understand where, and how, you’ve been in the last nine years.”_

_“I don’t see what difference that makes.”_

_“Paula, honey, please. I’ve spent every day of those years wondering where you were, how you were, who was looking out for you. Please, just answer their questions. Please.”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_“Fine.”_

_“So, when did you first meet Sergio Marquina?”_

_“When I was six.”_

_“Why don’t you tell us about that.”_

_“There isn’t that much to tell. I found him in my mother’s bedroom one night. I asked if they were dating and he said that they were. That was it.”_

_“And when was this?”_

_“What do you mean, I told you, it was when I was six, right after my birthday.”_

_“So, you hadn’t met him before then?”_

_“No.”_

_“Are you certain?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“How can you be so sure, you were only a child.”_

_“I remember that my mother had to leave my birthday party and I was angry with her. And she was working a lot in the days that followed, so I barely saw her. I stayed up to wait for her one night, that’s when she came home with Sergio. That’s the first time I met him.”_

_“And do you know why she was working so much during that time?”_

_“Yes, she was in charge of the heist against the Royal Mint. Of stopping and catching Sergio.”_

### 

**_Tuesday, fifth day of the heist_ **

Sergio had been awake for about a half an hour. He was in Raquel’s bed, and she was sleeping with her back turned to him. Under the cover of night, in shared moments only he and Raquel were privy to, he’d been able to stop the wheels in his head from turning, and, wanting to stay in the space that only they occupied, he cursed the painful reality that the light of dawn always seemed to bring with it.

He had never believed anything close to this would happen to him, had barely believed it possible to feel this connected to another person, to crave them with one’s entire being. All the things he’d accused his brother of through the years had snuck up on him since meeting Raquel; a shift in priorities, a willingness to throw caution to the wind, an inability to stay away, an undeniable realisation that there was more to life than his meticulous organisation of it, than his plan.

He’d just experienced one of the best nights of his life, one spent alternating between sleep, waking one another up to give into the urges he and Raquel had spent a year and a half inexplicably denying themselves of, talking about everything and nothing; the heist, the five months they’d spent apart, small things the other had missed, big things. 

And Sergio had stopped thinking, had uncharacteristically let go and allowed himself to live in the moment. 

But now that dawn had broken, that he was the only one awake, the wheels in his head had started turning at an unforgiving pace, demanding answers to questions he’d never even pondered until meeting her, about what would come next, after the heist. With Raquel next to him, no lies between them, Sergio was certain of one thing, and one thing alone: he couldn’t let her slip away. 

She’d seeped into every aspect of his life, and he needed her in it. 

The five months he’d just spent without her were nothing he wanted to experience again, and after two years of ups and downs, building a relationship, they seemed to have finally reached a place he never wanted to leave. He currently had it all, got to enjoy all of her: her trust, her friendship, her mind, her body. 

Raquel made him feel more alive than ever, complete, and he wanted her with him, by his side, after all this was over. He had to at least try to make that happen, however daunting the thought of asking her to give him a chance, a real chance, might be. 

If there hadn’t been so many complications in the past five days, he might have been able to stay in Madrid. To start a new life there, with her. But too much had gone wrong and he was acutely aware he was currently living on borrowed time; it seemed increasingly likely that he was going to be identified. Raquel had managed to get his name out of Tokyo, the Russian had seen him, and if the Deputy Inspector pulled through, he’d quickly identify him, Salva, as the Professor. He expected suspicion to soon thereafter fall on Raquel, but they had known it was a possibility and had taken every precaution possible to ensure she’d be beyond reproach. 

So, he couldn’t stay in Spain, but she could join him.

Sergio was trying to come up with a plan to convince Raquel that the incredibly irrational idea of going away with him might actually not be as insane as it seemed, when she stirred next to him. Raquel turned around, caught that he was deep in thought, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Is something wrong?”

He threw her an uncertain glance and shook his head, “No.”

Raquel had seen that look before, and something was undoubtedly eating at him. But after the night they’d just spent, after everything they’d shared, she felt confident he wasn’t about to try and reimpose his “no personal relationship”-nonsense. Even if he tried, she wouldn’t let him. Smiling at the thought, she scooted closer to him, letting her fingers graze his chest, waiting for him to share whatever was on his mind.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve just had the best night of my life.”

Now that she hadn’t expected. She looked at him in surprise and laughed as she caught his serious expression. He really did have an uncanny ability to say exactly what was on his mind at times, utterly unaware of how it might come across.

“Sergio, you’ve already won me over.” _In every way,_ she wanted to add. “No need to overdo it.”

“It’s the truth.” His gaze firmly focused on his glasses, he continued as her fingers lightly played with his beard, “The thing is… I hadn’t anticipated it.”

He shook his head, appearing almost disappointed in himself, and Raquel found him entirely irresistible this way.

“Oh, you hadn’t anticipated it”, she asked amused. “And haven’t I explained to you many a times that you can’t plan for everything? That you can’t anticipate everything?”

He glanced over at her, unsure he was ready to share just how set in his ways he truly was. When they dated it had been easy to keep in check, given that he only ever spent the night in the warehouse when she was with him and once they stopped dating… Well, she’d only spent the night once and thus hadn’t been privy to his peculiarities. Part of him wanted to continue hiding them from her, but she was looking at him with a warm, understanding look, and it made him want to open up.

“Well, let’s say that…” He sat up in bed and she followed suite, a hand on his shoulder, grounding him to the moment, to her. “I’m a man who picks out the clothes he’s going to wear the night before.”

Her laugh light and that of a smitten woman, Raquel was entirely able to picture him doing so, yet was somewhat impressed he’d managed to keep it from her with all the time they’d spent together. But she knew his need for planning exceedingly well, knew it bordered on an obsession, so wasn’t surprised.

Throwing her uncertain looks, Sergio continued his confession, sheepishly taking about his quest to make the best cider in the world. Eyeing him softly, wondering why he was suddenly using the cider business as an analogy for what they both knew he was talking about, Raquel was overtaken with emotions for this man. A criminal mastermind who’d taunted her for days, yet a shy, equally sure and unsure man, aware of his own neurosis, not quite able to fight them, but trying to open up to her about them. 

When he spoke of his obsession with his plan, of honouring his father, claiming his dream was to make 2400 barrels of cider as opposed to printing 2400 million Euros, they both laughed at the absurdity of it all, and a thought struck Raquel: She needed him to get out alive. Things were coming to a head, she could feel it, and she desperately needed for him to get out. His point had been proven, they’d already printed more than enough money. Raquel wanted him to get the damn tunnel finished, take his team, and get out.

The 2400 million Euros be damned.

“I understand the homage, but I don’t know, why don’t you settle for half of it? Or half of half, and…” 

Sergio was staring straight ahead and she wasn’t sure he understood what she was trying to say, but she continued softly, hoping he’d hear her words, catch the meaning behind them. “And then… Dedicate yourself to your own dreams?”

The look he gave her was pained, and she worried she’d pushed him too far. This was his plan, what he’d worked on for most of his adult life. She didn’t mean to insult him by suggesting he cut it short now, she just… Really needed him to make it out alive. 

When he finally spoke, his voice, barely above a whisper, was heavy with meaning. “Let’s go away.”

She shook her head, unsure of what he was trying to say, not entirely certain she’d heard him correctly.

Raquel failed to wrap her mind around it. Sergio was asking her to go away with him. To do what she needed to do to end the heist, while he’d do the necessary on his end to wrap up his supposed cider business. That they’d then take her daughter and mother, and run away together. 

It was insane.

Absolutely fucking insane. 

To make fugitives of herself, her daughter, and her mother; in no universe did it make any kind of sense. 

Yet when he confessed that he’d never felt such a strong will to live before, going away with him somehow seemed like the only option. However irrational, the only oddly rational thing to do. She couldn’t go back to her life after this, not without him in it. It had gone too far, they had shared too much.

She’d known him for two years. In that time he’d become a confidant, a friend, a partner, and now, yet again, a lover. She’d spent a year and a half keeping him at arm’s length, and had no interest in continuing down that path. She wanted to be allowed to feel again, to not have to make smart decisions simply because she had issues to work through, because of her ex-husband, because her faith in her instincts had been shattered.

So, she agreed. 

Against all of her better judgement, she agreed to leave her life behind and, for a lack of better words, run away with him. Sergio appeared as disbelieving and giddy as she did about it.

Alone in a cell weeks later, Raquel would reflect over just how naïve and ridiculous they’d been in that moment for two supposedly rational people facing an objectively impossible situation. How absurd it was that they’d allowed themselves to dream, when all signs were pointing to an imminent implosion.

But both she and Sergio wanted to believe it could be done, that their fates were in their own hands, that her joining him was no one’s but their choice to make. They sealed the deal with a tender kiss filled with meaning and hope for the future, letting themselves believe that running away together wasn’t the far-fetched illusion it would soon reveal itself to be.

Flipping the covers aside, Raquel got out of bed, leaving an overwhelmed Sergio to his thoughts. _She’d actually said yes._ He put on his glasses, and was about to get up when Raquel returned, leaped onto the bed and straddled him with a bright smile.

She kissed him hungrily and he welcomed her tongue, matching her desire as he deepened the kiss and let his hands come down to grab her ass, as she began grinding against his quickly growing erection. Sliding his hand down her underwear he groaned upon discovering how wet she was. Raquel lifted herself up and closed down on him, flexing her muscles around his hard dick, making him lose any ability to form a coherent thought. Taking control, she rode him hard and swiftly had him undone. 

Savouring the feeling of him coming inside her, Raquel met his final thrusts. She leaned down as he was attempting to catch his breath and kissed him, grinning.

“Alright. _Now_ I can go to work and catch you.”

Sergio laughed and pulled her in for one long, last kiss, before letting her go. 

* * *

Raquel returned to the tent and Sergio to his hangar, both intent on buying him enough time to get his team out of the Mint, and to wrap things up as soon as possible. For Raquel, that meant keeping up pretences that she was doing everything in her power to catch Sergio, while maintaining her focus on keeping both hostages and robbers safe. For Sergio, it meant gaining more support and ensuring that no one else got hurt, and that there be no more deviations from the plan, hoping to thus ensure nothing else would go wrong. 

Raquel wasn’t expecting an early call from the Professor, even less that he’d offer to release hostages, requesting a camera team to enter the Mint for the occasion. Raquel was preoccupied with the plan she was hatching which she hoped would buy him precious time to finish the tunnel, and asked for time to think about his request. But Sergio immediately threatened to leak the tapes, and it took her aback. Things seemed different in the light of day, back in the tent. They’d only parted less than two hours prior, and he was already pissing her off again.

If she asked for time, there was a reason that she did and she wished that Sergio would recognise that, recognise that she was in a difficult situation where she had to weigh every step carefully. She didn’t need the extra pressure he was now putting her under. And she didn’t enjoy being reminded of the fact that he’d already leaked one recording. 

Even though she’d known he’d be likely to leak the recording of her agreeing to exchange the release of eight minors for that of Alison Parker when she made the decision to do so, it didn’t mean that she’d enjoyed the aftermath of it. Enjoyed having her reputation dragged through the mud, having her integrity questioned on national television, having her ex use it against her to make a move to get custody of Paula. 

Raquel tried reminding herself that this wasn’t Sergio being a dick to her, it was the Professor being a dick to the police in order to get what he wanted, but it nonetheless rubbed the wrong way, reminded her that she wasn’t the one in charge, that in some ways, she was at his mercy. He clearly had a plan, and he was giving her and the others in charge the perfect excuse to agree to his terms: agree to grant the Professor his own personal propaganda machine, or be humiliated yet again. It was brilliant, but it still ticked her off. 

She had a plan too and she wished she didn’t always have to follow his lead, that he would follow hers too, and she there was an uneasy voice she tried to ignore that began wondering just how much of Sergio was left in the persona of the Professor. How far he would go to achieve his goal, if he really knew where the line went.

Raquel found herself in the rather absurd situation of arguing to her colleagues that Sergio had tried to kill Ángel, that his car had been tampered with. It was something that had been eating at her ever since she found out Ángel had handed in a spoon with Sergio’s prints on them. She couldn’t quite let it go, even though her entire being screamed at her that it couldn’t be, that Sergio wouldn’t have done something like that. She desperately needed to be convinced that he hadn’t and when both Suárez and Prieto insisted there was no evidence of foul play, she almost, almost, allowed herself to believe it. 

She proceeded to push for her plan to lure whoever was assisting the Professor on the outside to Ángel’s hospital bed. They were all against it, and Suárez insisted they focus their efforts on the Mint instead. It was precisely the thing Raquel wanted to avoid, yet needed her own back clear about. So she argued her case, putting on a show for them, trying not to get lost in the lies, to hold on to the core of what she was doing.

She was supporting a worthy cause against a broken system. And the actions of the authorities since the heist had started further cemented her conviction that she’d picked the right side. She was ensuring as few people as possible got hurt, that the trigger-happy men in the tent didn’t throw caution to the wind and storm the Mint on a whim. And she was doing it with Sergio, her partner of two years.

But the bitter truth was, she could feel the pressure of playing both sides really getting to her, and she feared she was losing her footing.

She had naïvely enough thought her night with Sergio had filled her with the energy and conviction to see this all through, but incredible as it had been, they hadn’t gotten much sleep. And the exhaustion that currently clouded her mind indicated that she would’ve needed that missed sleep. If she’d been at the end of her rope before starting the heist, it was nothing compared to how she felt now. 

Alberto was going for custody of Paula, one of Sergio’s team members had died, Ángel was in a coma because of her, Tokyo had been tossed out of the mint and arrested, Sergio had been identified and his cover as Salva was very likely on the verge of being blown, and her mother had begun forgetting things, too many things, important things. 

It was too fucking much, but she had to keep it together, everything depended on it. The minute she slipped, Prieto would storm the Mint and lives would undoubtedly be lost, those of Sergio’s team and hostages alike.

Never mind that she was planning an operation to catch the Professor, knowing it had no way of working, having to defend it to a group of men who all thought they knew better than her. Never mind that the entire country thought she was the queen of all bitches, and bad at her job at that, that her colleagues viewed and treated her as a bitter woman falsely accusing her ex of abuse. Never mind that she was still reeling from that abuse. Never mind that the reputation she’d spent years building was slowly but surely coming undone in front of her very eyes. Never mind that her daughter currently hated her.

She needed to keep it together. To keep fighting.

Raquel couldn’t keep past frustrations from resurfacing. She was the one in charge dammit, and her plan made sense. Had it not been Sergio they were dealing with, it would’ve in all likelihood worked. She wanted to tell them all to go to hell, but needed them on her side, could only push them so far.

And she fucking needed to keep it together, just a little longer, just long enough for Sergio to get his team out of there, for the heist to have been a success, for the government to have to face up to its own shortcomings. 

Then she and Sergio would go away together. 

Somehow though, in the tent, the dream that just that morning had seemed like it was within reach, now seemed distant, a delusion. She didn’t currently feel like they were in this together, but rather like Sergio was running his own race. She felt alone.

 _Fuck_. 

She was slipping, she could tell she was slipping. But she _had_ to keep it together. 

* * *

Once the reporters were inside the Mint and began broadcasting, Raquel was surprised to see de Fonollosa seemingly in charge. His head heavily, ridiculously, bandaged, but in charge nonetheless. Sergio had told her the night before that Nairobi had taken control on the inside. Had his team on the inside lied to him? Or… Had he lied to her, to keep her in line and not demand he deal with de Fonollosa? That man should under no circumstances be allowed to continue being in charge, he had crossed an unforgivable line ordering the execution of a hostage. The only reason Mónica Gaztambide was still alive was that Denver had refused to follow that order. 

Not for the first time, she wondered what on earth was going on in there, and just how open Sergio was with her about it.

She had to give it to the man though, de Fonollosa really sold it. In her opinion, knowing his past, she thought he laid it on more than a little thick, but he was most definitely selling it. He was giving the impression that they were giving up, that they knew the battle was lost. When he began talking about his disease and the fact that the police had leaked fabricated stories about him, Raquel shifted uncomfortably. She wasn’t proud of that. She didn’t give a damn about de Fonollosa’s feelings, but she’d always prided herself on acting with integrity, and she’d failed that time. She had acted against her better judgement in leaking that information, and de Fonollosa was right in forcing the police to face the music on what they, what she, had done.

She and Sergio had discussed this move of appearing subdued at length, with her arguing that such a sign of weakness might embolden the police to move in, thinking the robbers would give up without hurting anyone, eager to avoid adding to what would already be lengthy prison sentences. Sergio’s tactic seemed to have worked though, as public opinion swayed even further to the robbers.

Releasing the hostages and letting a TV crew into the Mint seemed to have had the desired effects. First, his team had fewer hostages to focus on, and second, public support for their cause had increased. But the news soon reported that Rubio had woken up from his coma, and it struck Sergio that Raquel didn’t know that her deputy knew not only of his identity, but of the location of the hangar as well. 

He hadn’t told her.

And he hadn’t told her that Rubio had left a message for her about Salva’s identity, that he had deleted that message from her answering machine. He should’ve told her, but had gotten caught up in her, in their time together, in how right her skin felt underneath his fingertips. It had slipped his mind, it was an honest mistake, but he definitely should have told her.

He didn’t know what was going on with the Deputy Inspector, if the news of him waking up was a ploy to smoke him out or not. If it wasn’t, if it was true, the police would come breaking down the doors the minute Rubio would be stable enough to give them the address to the hangar. And if it was true, then Raquel would be compromised in that very instant as well. They would find out that the man she’d been seeing, Salva, was in fact the Professor, and she’d be taken off the case.

_Shit_

If it was a ploy on the other hand, then it was a trap Raquel had set up, trusting he’d recognise it as just that and stay away. If it was a trap, she was buying him time while giving the appearance of attempting to catch him. If only he’d told her Rubio knew the location of the hangar, then she would’ve found a way to let him know whether or not the Deputy had truly woken up. 

Sergio needed to gain some perspective and not being able to call Raquel in case she had indeed been compromised, he called the Mint, hoping Andrés might help him see things straight. His brother told him that it was in all likelihood a trap, but agreed that they couldn’t risk it. His advice was to check it out, and finish the Deputy off. Sergio flinched hearing those words. It would go against everything they were fighting for and more importantly, Sergio was not about to commit a murder, he hated that Andrés would even suggest it. 

But there were options, he could inject the Deputy Inspector with a heavy sedative, which would at least buy him enough time to figure out what to do. He was ninety percent convinced that it was a trap, he really hoped that it was, and that all wasn’t about to get lost. That it wasn’t already too late. But he needed to make sure.

When clowns started filling the hospital halls, Raquel was almost amused. She had no idea what the hell was going on, which was clearly the point of whatever it was Sergio had set up. She didn’t have to try very hard to appear confused at the situation. Frustrated was harder to pull off though, consider she mostly felt relieved that Sergio had evidently followed her lead and sent someone to divert the police’s attention. 

And now her colleagues thought she had been right, that he had in fact tried to kill Ángel. As they began talking about how close Ángel must’ve gotten to Sergio, possibly face to face, Raquel couldn’t bare it anymore. Her guilt about Ángel was overwhelming, and that damned voice in her head that refused to shut up and kept whispering that Sergio might have had something to do with his accident only added to that. She couldn’t compartmentalise everything. Sergio, Ángel, Salva, the Professor, the heist; they weren’t separate pieces moving at the same time on a carefully crafted chess board, they were currently one jumbled mess. And she felt utterly lost in that mess.

She couldn’t do anything about Ángel at the moment, but she needed to know why the hell de Fonollosa was back in charge, and what Sergio’s plan was to wrap it all up. To hell with plausible deniability, she needed him to be completely open with her now.

Letting her colleagues know she needed a break, she called Sergio and left him a message, hoping he’d meet her at the Hanoi, needing to feel that she wasn’t alone. He was the only other person who knew the truth, the only one she didn’t need to lie to or keep up pretences with. They wouldn’t be able to talk openly at the Hanoi, but maybe they could find a quiet space to do so, if even for a few minutes. They had things they needed to clear up. She could feel some of her old doubts gnawing at her, and she wanted to talk to him about it rather than ending up pulling her gun on him again.

On her way over to the Hanoi though, her mother called, “Mom?”

“I know you’re working sweetheart, but I just got back from the store and realised I forgot to buy milk for Paula’s cereals tomorrow morning. Could you do it on your way home?”

“Oh. Sure, yes, I’ll do that.”

“Great, thank you. I guess I should let you get back to work and catch those robbers.”

 _Right_ , Raquel thought with a tired sigh, catching them was what she was supposed to be doing rather than meeting the mastermind behind it all for a beer. 

“Oh, by the way… Did your friend, I forgot his name, but he was here yesterday…”

“Salva?”

“Right, that’s the one. Salva. Did he give you the message?”

Taken aback, Raquel asked, “What message?”

“What was it… I’m sure I wrote it down somewhere.” Raquel heard her mother shuffling about on the other end. “I can’t find it. What was it again? Wait, I’ll call our voicemail, it has to still be there. I’ll call you right back sweetheart.”

Waiting for her mother to call back, Raquel tried not to jump to conclusions, but her mind was spinning. Sergio hadn’t given her any message. She’d found him in her house, he’d given her flowers, but not a fucking message.

Raquel’s heart was pounding in her chest when the phone rang again and she answered quickly, “Mom?” 

“I’m sorry honey, the message has been deleted… That’s weird, I never delete messages, I must’ve done it by accident.”

“Do you remember what it was? Or what it was about at all?”

She could almost hear her mother trying to conjure up the memory and felt a pang in her heart. She didn’t want to think about what this new forgetfulness might mean, didn’t want to acknowledge it, couldn’t bare for it to be real.

“I’m sorry but I can’t remember… It was from Ángel though, I’m sure of it.”

“Ok, don’t worry about it. Listen mom, I have to go. I’ll probably be home late tonight, but I’ll bring milk.”

“Alright, wonderful. I’ll talk to you later.”

Hanging up, Raquel didn’t know what to make of it, any of it. Why on earth would Sergio not give her a message from Ángel? Mind reeling, Raquel checked the call logs for her home phone online. Sure enough, there was a call from Ángel the night of his accident. He’d left a message, and that message had been deleted the following day. Right around the time Sergio had been at her house. Was he the one to have deleted it? Her mother never did, always wrote messages down and kept them in the voice mail.

Why the hell wouldn’t Sergio have given her the message, and tried to keep her from getting it altogether?

She walked into the Hanoi, trying to keep an open mind waiting for Sergio. But she was confused and her instincts were telling her that she was letting herself be duped again by an all-consuming man. She was handed a red envelope with her name on it and pulled out a set of postcards of paradisaic islands. She just stared at them, wondering when she’d be able to see things clearly again, when she’d be able to see Sergio clearly again, wondering if she ever had. 

* * *

Listening to the message from Raquel, asking him to meet her at the Hanoi, Sergio noted that she sounded tired, and he headed over there as soon as he could. He’d left her postcards and was nervous about how she’d take it, nervous she might be changing her mind about going away with him. 

He spotted her sitting in one of the booths, looking at the postcards. The sight made his stomach flutter, and he took a few swift, light steps up to her. He was relieved. Rubio hadn’t woken up, Raquel hadn’t been taken off the case, the police hadn’t stormed the Mint and the hangar. And he had woken up in her bed that morning. All in all, it wasn’t a bad day. There was still a lot to be done but he’d gotten reinforcements for the tunnel and they were on track. And as he and Raquel were about to steal another moment together, he felt hopeful. Nervous about the envelope he’d left her, but hopeful.

Raquel was staring at the postcards, still in a state of shocked confusion, when he was suddenly there, right in front of her, looking at her with the most genuine, warm, almost giddy, smile. He asked her how her day was going and leaned in to kiss her with such ease it made her breath hitch. Her misgivings almost dissipated with that kiss, and she let the warmth and calm that spread through her sooth her for just a short, blissful instant. She wanted that feeling to remain, and captured his lips again as he withdrew. She wanted to believe that it was a kiss full of promise, as opposed to one of endings and deceit. 

She wanted so badly to believe it, that she found herself staring at him like a love-sick teenager, gobbling up whatever he told her, letting herself getting drawn into what her instincts now screamed at her were an illusion. Something about the way he spoke of the Philippines though, reminded her of the last time she thought a man was too good to be true, and how she’d ended up trapped in a hellish relationship as a consequence. And as he was talking, she spotted a strand of orange hair on his suite, and that hair sent her mind spinning. 

Orange… 

Wasn’t that the colour of the wig of the clown at the hospital? Had he actually gone there himself, knowing full well it was in all likelihood a trap? Why wouldn’t he have sent anyone in his stead? She felt the air leave her as she realised; the only reason he would have gone there himself, was if he thought there was something he might need to take care of, something he wouldn’t risk entrusting anyone else to do. 

_He must have gone there to kill Ángel._

He would’ve sent someone else otherwise. She desperately wanted to believe that he wouldn’t, that he couldn’t, that it was quite the leap, an absurd conclusion to draw. But she couldn’t convince herself of it; she’d trusted him before, and he’d lied to her. She’d trusted Alberto, and he had broken her beyond repair. 

How much did she really know about this man? He’d always claimed no one would get hurt during the heist, that he’d make sure of it, that it was central for his protest, for him. And yet he put his brother in charge, by all accounts a violent sociopath. She’d reluctantly accepted that there might more to the man than his file indicated, and had trusted that Sergio could keep him in check, had trusted his judgment. But de Fonollosa had ordered the execution of a hostage, and yet he was still in charge. Sergio had given him a slap on the wrist by planting evidence so the police could identify him, but he was still in charge. And the business with Ángel was just… too damn convenient to be a coincidence. But if it had all been lies, then he was doing this for the money, and she’d been conspiring with him to commit robbery. As brilliant as it might be, she’d effectively helped him plan a fucking robbery, and a violent one at that.

Raquel sat in the booth, stunned, trying to see Sergio clearly while he went on about the Philippines. She was trying to remove whatever rose-coloured glasses she might have on, or to see beyond whatever doubts she had based on her history with Alberto and the fact that she was utterly exhausted, but she could make neither heads nor tails of it. She needed to breath, to get away from his piercing stare, from him talking about their fucking future.

She gathered herself enough to go to the bathroom, where she tried to breath, tried to think. But it was all muddled, and she didn’t know whether she was a fool for doubting Sergio, or a fool for trusting him in the first place. She finally called Suárez, fighting against a panic attack, willing him to tell her that she was wrong, that the wig had been blue, green, purple, any fucking colour but orange. But he didn’t, he confirmed that it had in fact been orange, and she thought she might collapse on the spot.

Had the past two years truly been a lie? Had anything Sergio had said, anything they’d shared been true? And why couldn’t she get clarity on this once and for all? How many times would her trust in him have to be shattered until she either stopped trusting him, or finally trusted him through it?

Truly despairing, she called Alberto of all people, asking him what had happened the previous day with Salva. She didn’t know why exactly she did it, Sergio had already told her he’d provoked him and had incapacitated him so he could tamper with the evidence, which was exactly what Alberto confirmed. But she felt like she was falling, like nothing was true anymore. And she needed as much information as possible before confronting Sergio, because she of all people knew just how skilled of a liar he was.

Hanging up the phone, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She just wanted it all to stop. The lies, the heist, the fucking men in her life. 

She needed something to be real and felt like a fucking fool for having been desperately clinging to the conviction that Sergio was the one in her life, in all of this, to be just that. The man who’d lied to her from the very beginning. A criminal mastermind who’d been planning one of the greatest heists in history his entire adult life. She scoffed at herself; sure, it seemed reasonable that he would tell her, the cop in charge of stopping him, the full truth of what he was doing.

Of course he’d played her, of course he had. Whether or not he had planned for them to meet two years prior or once the heist started, whichever the real story was, the truth was that he had played her expertly for two years. He was a strategist who was also quick on his feet. He’d found a way to get what he wanted out of her, and then some. Hell, he even got her to trust him, regardless of how many lies she caught him in, and eventually got her to fuck him again. Got _her_ to fuck _him_ again.

All the information she’d dragged out of him, his name, his plan, his brother… None of it had been offered up. He’d just rolled with the punches and adapted, giving her data, a new piece of the puzzle, when he had to. But never until the very moment she’d demanded it.

She was going to get some fucking answers, real answers. And she wouldn’t let him go, or decide what to do with him until he’d answered every single one of her questions in a satisfactory way. 

First things first, she needed to get him in private and in handcuffs, so decided she would try to get him to come to the bathroom with her. She wasn’t sure luring him with sex would work again, given that she’d pulled a gun on him the previous time, but she gave it her best try. As he straightened out his clothes and stiffly walked to the bathroom, she scoffed internally at how easy it was. Regardless how manipulative and brilliant he was, he was still a man, and couldn’t resist the allure of sex. How banal. She followed him to the bathroom, locked the door behind her, and pulled her gun on him. Again. 

He acted clueless, tried to laugh it off as role play even, but when he turned to her and she made him put the handcuffs on, the way he looked at her send a shiver down her spine. This wasn’t Sergio, it wasn’t Salva. She was face to face with the Professor and the cold, calculating eyes that met hers only added to Raquel’s conviction. He had been playing her like a fucking schoolgirl. She kept her gun trailed on him, trying not to cry, trying not to break, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. 

She was determined to get the truth out of him, but wouldn’t do it in a public bathroom. She could probably take him back to his warehouse, but he’d already lied to her there, had already fucked her there, numerous times. She wanted a space he’d deliberately kept from her, to make him unsure of where he stood, to make him wonder why she’d brought him there, what she was going to do to him. 

And she knew just the place. 

* * *

He’d fallen for it again. Just a few days prior she’d tempted him with sex, and he’d ended up held at gunpoint, and here he was again. He did as told and put the handcuffs on, mind reeling. Had she finally decided to give up on him? If so, what had been the final straw? Had she been found out and pressured into taking a deal? As she read him his rights, he was certain that was it. She was bringing him in, and if she brought him in, he wasn’t getting out. She knew every contingency plan he had in place, had in fact crafted several of them. 

But the Hanoi wasn’t stormed, nor did Raquel take him to the police. _Something else must be going on_. He recognised that look in her eyes, the one that said he was a stranger, that she had no idea who he was, but he had no idea what had happened to bring this on. He hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t kept anything from her, and then it hit him: he hadn’t lied to her _now_. But whatever was going on was in all likelihood a culmination of their two years together, of his lying for the first five months of them knowing one another, of everything that had gone wrong since the heist started. 

And he had forgotten to share details about Rubio with her. Though truth be told he failed to see how those could be relevant at this point, after the night they’d shared, the plans they’d made together. But he’d failed to share it with her nonetheless, and he filed the realisation in case it might help him understand what was happening later on.

Sergio kept his mouth shut as she told him to get in the car, and remained quiet on the road to what he soon recognised was the house in Toledo. He knew her by now, had seen her distrust him before, and knew he was surrounded by a literal minefield. He didn’t know how to address her concerns, if concerns where indeed what she had, since he didn’t know what they were. But one thing he knew about Raquel; she’d eventually let him know in no uncertain terms what was on her mind. And he tried to take some solace in the fact that she hadn’t dragged him straight to a police station, or the tent. 

Raquel tied him up, started pacing the room, and Sergio realised he was facing Inspector Murillo. He had no idea how to deal with this. He’d instructed his team not to underestimate her, to trust the plan, to trust him. But it wasn’t just his plan, it was hers as well, and this wasn’t in any version of it. So, he waited her out, only realising she was using the same tactic on him when she finally spoke.

“Do you know what suspects usually do when they’re taken back to the scene of the crime?” She took in the space where he’d taught his team, the team she’d helped him assemble. “They go on and on, they ramble. About the weather, politics… They crack jokes.” She huffed, “Because they’re nervous. Because they can’t stand the silence.”

She took a deep breath, “But you”, she finally turned to him, “You don’t say a damn thing.”

Part of her desperately wanted for him to tell her the magic words she knew didn’t exist, the ones that would make all of the disorder to make sense again, that would restore her faith in him. But he didn’t, and she knew why he wasn’t talking; he didn’t know what she knew, and didn’t want to risk divulging too much.

In truth though, Sergio had no idea what she needed from him, and cursed his inability to understand people. He nodded nervously, hoping she’d guide him like she’d done many times in the two years they’d known each other. “What do you want me to talk about, Raquel?”

The look of utter disbelief she gave him let him know that he was on the wrong track, that it was too little, too late, and she finally asked, voice laced with contempt and scepticism, “Who are you?”

“Sergio Marquina.” He was wracking his brain trying to understand why she asked him this, she’d known of his true identity for a year and seven months, but she simply huffed in response. 

“Sergio? Salva? The Professor?” 

She slowly approached him, rattling off things he’d said and done as the Professor, things he wasn’t proud, far from it. Things he’d already apologised to her for, things she’d seemed to have, if not forgiven him for, then at least understood how and why they’d occurred, and moved on from. But when she was right in front of him, so close he could almost smell her, she dealt him the final blow, “So… Who the _fuck_ are you?”

A part of him shattered at Raquel asking him that question. She was one of the few people who actually knew him, and he’d shared more with her in their time together than he ever had with anyone outside of his family. He’d let himself be cajoled far out of his comfort zone by her, had laughed with her, shared his plan with her, even adjusted it based on her inputs. _Fuck_ , just the day before he’d laid next to her, on a stuffed penguin, and had realised he’d fallen in love for the first time in his life. Deeply in love. With her. But the way Raquel looked at him told him she evidently didn’t feel the same, that whatever he’d allowed himself to dream of had been just that: a distant, impossible dream.

He was giving her nothing, so Raquel asked him questions she already knew the answers to, about his fingerprints, hoping she’d catch him in a lie. When he repeated the same lines he’d told her before, she laughed at herself, angry that she’d disregarded this in him; how he always had answers for everything, never contradicted himself. She was a cop dammit, she should’ve remembered this from when she first began suspecting him, two months after they met. 

Sergio couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Just that morning they’d discussed a future together, and she’d agreed to go away with him. But the way she looked at him now was full of hate, she spoke of killing him, and he had no idea how to reach her.

“Is that what you want? To kill me and burn my body?” 

With the question, he hoped to jolt her back to him, to them, but his heart sank even further as she responded, “Yeah, it sure as shit is.”

Raquel had in fact no idea if she’d be capable of it, still not knowing what to make of him, which parts of him were true, which were lies, and which were something in between. If he could only tell her the fucking truth for once, the whole truth, then maybe she’d be able to see things clearly. She slowly approached him, “Look. Maybe two years ago, when we first met, I wouldn’t have been able to do it, what with being a police officer and all… But today?”

She looked him straight in the eyes as she laid bare the pain that the doubts, his heist and his lies had caused her. 

“As a woman? A woman who’s spent years being afraid of everything, _of everything_ , and who trusted someone. Someone who knew how fragile and vulnerable she was… Who’s been fooling her from the _fucking_ beginning, then it wouldn’t be so inconceivable for me to do it, would it?”

He still didn’t know what had caused these feelings to reappear in her, but he recognised them from the time Raquel found his file on her while they were still planning. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to confront this. She was right, he had lied to her. He thought they’d put it behind them, but it was now undeniable he’d been right to suspect their relationship had been too good to be true.

Tears in her eyes, Raquel laid into him, shouting that he hadn’t needed to play with her, that he could’ve found another way, could’ve planted a bug on her if nothing else. If he could go back in time and do just that, hand her back her phone that day with a mumbled apology and walk away, plant a bug on her once the heist started, Sergio would’ve done it. He would’ve done anything to spare her the pain he saw reflected in her eyes, the pain he knew he was responsible for.

It would’ve meant he’d never gotten to know her, never gotten close to her, never gotten to share his plan with her. It would’ve deprived him of the happiest moments of his life, but if it’d have spared her this, then he would’ve done it. Truth was, he’d been selfish when it came to Raquel. He’d wanted her, hadn’t been able to stay away from her, had quickly begun needing her to fine-tune his plan. She’d so quickly inserted herself in his life that he could no longer imagine it without her in it. He’d begun falling for her the minute they met, yet here she was, convinced he’d been using her all along.

He shook his head, she’d gotten it so, so wrong.

“It was all planned, Raquel.” He thought he knew what he was going to try to convey but looking at her pain-stricken face, he began to ramble, averting his eyes from her when the contact became overwhelming. 

“Everything. It was all… I’m sorry. It was all planned out, you know that… Except for what happened between us.” He couldn’t look at her as the words poured out of him, “I don’t know, I broke my own rules.”

“What?” Raquel couldn’t believe her ears, was he really talking about his fucking rules again? _What the fuck was wrong with him?_

“I didn’t consider this as a variable.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What variable?”

He vaguely thought he should ask her what had caused her to distrust him again, but instead told her the only thing that came to his mind, the truth that he could no longer deny. “Falling in love with you.”

Her palm met his cheek before he registered the anger flashing in her eyes at his words. 

His ear was ringing in pain, and Raquel hurled angry, disbelieving words at him. He tried to reassure her that he wasn’t lying, and repeated his words that he’d fallen for her. It earned him little but another slap.

She dared him to say it again and he braced himself. The third time, he looked her straight in the eyes and tried to convey the sincerity of his words, tried to bring her back to the trust she seemed to have had in him when they were planning, when she asked him to take her out of town, when they went through her file together, when she asked him to change her bandages. 

“Raquel…” He took a deep breath, “I fell in love with you.”

Another smack.

Raquel’s hand was shaking after she slapped him the last time. Her entire body was shaking, and she had no idea what to do with herself, still had no idea what the truth was, what she should believe.

“I’m so sorry.”

His eyes were so sincere, and she was still desperate to believe him. But she had him tied up, of course he’d say anything to get out of his current situation, including claiming he was in love with her. She couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t live in a perpetual state of incertitude, always with a small doubt gnawing at her. 

Why the hell did he have to appear so fucking sincere? He’d done this to her once before, appeared entirely devoted to her, as taken with her as she had been with him, giving her all of his focus, hanging on to every word she said. He’d looked at her with the same sincerity as he did now, holding her close, letting a thumb caress her cheek. He’d done it for five months, lying to her up until the very moment she finally wrangled the truth out of him. Hell, he’d kept lying to her with her gun trailed on him, looking just as hurt and sincere as he did now.

She wanted to strangle that look of sincerity, smack it right off his face.

She’d occasionally had these misgivings in her time planning with Sergio, but they had always vanished whenever she was with him, and had become increasingly rare as time went on. She’d thought at the time that it was evidence that she could trust him, that she should listen to her instincts when she was actually with him, rather than let the doubts that would sneak up on her when they weren’t together take over. She’d thought it was because of her trust issues, her therapist had warned her they would take years to get over. But looking back on it now, she deduced that the doubts were silenced because Sergio was a master manipulator.

“Alright… Alright.”

Since she wasn’t sure of whether she was unable, or unwilling, to see through his lies, she was going to use something she hoped could: a lie detector. She knew they were flawed, knew someone who had trained would be able to fool one, but at least it would give her something to go on, something other than a whirlwind of emotions, doubts and lack of clarity, all further clouded by Sergio’s pleading eyes.

She left him dangling from the roof as she walked out, mind reeling but determined to take control of her own life, to not be kept in the dark anymore, only allowed the crumbs of truth that Sergio, Alberto, or the CNI deemed her worthy of.

She was going to get to the fucking truth. Once and for all.


	10. Reckoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to be dragging this out, but this chapter became really long, so had to be split into two shorter chapters. To make up for it though, the next one will be up soon-ish, probably on Wednesday.

_“Did they ever discuss that with you?”_

_“What?”_

_“The fact that your mother was tasked with stopping, and catching, Mr. Marquina?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula, please.”_

_“I told you, I don’t want to talk about this.”_

_“Paula, please.”_

_“No dad, I don’t want to talk about him, about them. You keep saying you’re worried about me, but then you both keep asking me about them! And I don’t want to talk about mom or Sergio. You can’t make me.”_

_“Paula, we can take another break and continue later.”_

_“No. I haven’t done anything wrong, yet you’re interrogated me like I was a criminal.”_

_“That’s not our intention.”_

_“No, your intention is to get as much information out of me as possible so that you can catch them. I know that. And I want to leave.”_

_“Paula…”_

_“Dad, I want to leave. Now.”_

_“Paula honey, please don’t be difficult. Inspector González just has a few more questions, and then we can go home.”_

_“No, I’m not talking to her anymore, I’m leaving… Let go of me!”_

_“Ok, ok… Paula, honey… Paula!”_

_[…]_

_“Let the record show that Paula Vicuña has left the room.”_

### 

**_Tuesday, fifth day of the heist_ **

Hanging off the roof, Raquel gone, with his attempts at getting loose proving futile, Sergio ran through a number of scenarios. He was partly doing it to keep his mind busy and not fret over the apparent collapse of his relationship with Raquel, nor over the fact that Tokyo would be broken out of police custody any minute, and he wouldn’t be available to inform of her the next steps. But he also needed to prepare for what might come, to be ready to react.

The first scenario entailed Raquel returning with reinforcements. If that was the case, he would well and truly be fucked. Sure, he had plans in place for freeing members of the band, including himself, from the police, but Raquel knew all of them. The only consolation for that scenario was that she didn’t know the location of the hangar, and the Deputy Inspector evidently was yet to come to from his coma, so at least his team still stood a chance at getting away as long as that tunnel got finished on time. Logically though, this scenario seemed unlikely. If she was bringing him in, Raquel would’ve either brought him with her, or just called for back-up, she never would’ve risked leaving him alone in Toledo.

The second scenario was that she’d simply leave him there, essentially to rot or to be found by whichever police officer might first return to the house. 

The third was that she had indeed decided to kill him, and had left to get… A shovel? Or perhaps a different gun as she’d have to report any shots fired from her service weapon. But he knew her, and doubted she’d kill him. Shoot him, he wasn’t sure, but kill him? She wasn’t a murderer, she wouldn’t kill him in cold blood. He was almost entirely certain she wouldn’t. Almost.

Whatever Raquel would decide to do, activating plan Chernobyl wouldn’t be an option since she knew of it and it was thus bound to fail. Sergio’s heart sank as he realised that his team didn’t know of Raquel’s involvement, and might activate plan Chernobyl once reached by the news that he’d gotten arrested, or when he’d failed to check in for too long. 

_Shit._

His only hope was that Raquel might still believe in the plan, even though she’d lost faith in him, just like when she’d originally agreed to join him. She knew how to take the reins should it come to that so even though he would be incapacitated she could, if she chose to, help his team get away. Or at the very least, let them get away.

Whichever scenario he was about to face though, one thing was certain; his life, and those of his team members, rested squarely in Raquel’s hands. She could put an end to all of it with just one phone call. Ensure they all end up either dead or behind bars. And it seemed there was nothing he could do about it. Hearing the car return, he tried yanking the chains again, as if they, or the bolt, would suddenly, magically give way and allow him to take control of the situation. He didn’t want to think of Raquel as an opponent but unless he could convince her that she could trust him, he was going to have to treat her as such and do what he needed to do to get away, if and when the opportunity presented itself. The lives of his teammates depended on it.

He drew a sigh of relief as she returned by herself, and shovel-free. Perhaps not all was lost after all, and she was still undecided. With the night they’d shared, the plans they’d made, he still hung on to hope that he could appeal to her, convince her that she knew him, knew the purpose of the heist, that he truly hadn’t planned for what had happened between the two of them, that he had fallen in love with her. Genuinely, fully, irreversibly.

Raquel had him right where she wanted; hooked up to a lie detector, and visibly nervous. When the machine indicated he lied at the first question she asked him, whether or not he was nervous, she finally felt a semblance of control as he evidently wasn’t able to fool the machine, and began.

“Name.”

“Sergio Marquina.” 

She glanced at the machine and satisfied that the curves were stable, asked for his place of birth. With no indication that he was lying, she cut straight to the chase. 

“Did you know that Ángel had identified you, or Salva, as the Professor?”

 _Shit._ Why hadn’t he told her about that when he had the chance? He’d never meant to actively keep it from her, but she’d confronted him just two nights prior exactly because he’d omitted things from her. And then he’d done it again. He was a fucking idiot.

“Yes.”

Raquel tried not to flinch at him confirming her suspicions. “How?”

“Your mother called, asking me to give you a message from him, from that night. The night of the accident.”

She hadn’t expected him to be quite so forthcoming, so decided to try her luck. “Was it you who caused Ángel’s accident?”

 _What?_ Unable to process the fact that that was what she suspected him of, he answered quickly, “No.”

She glanced over at the polygraph. He didn’t appear to be lying, but she needed more. “Why were you at the hospital today?”

“To make sure that it was a trap, that Rubio hadn’t woken up.”

“Why didn’t you send someone else?”

“There was no time, I needed to make sure it all went well… And I needed to be able to adapt in case it wasn’t a trap and he really had woken up.”

“Right. And what would you have done in that case?”

“Raquel, I…”

He trailed off, so Raquel filled in the gaps. “You would’ve killed him.”

He shook his head, “No. No, Raquel, I wouldn’t have. I swear it.”

Huffing in disbelief, she decided to return to this matter later, and focus on confronting him on something he couldn’t so easily deny. “You told me last night that de Fonollosa was no longer in charge, that Nairobi had assumed responsibility on the inside.”

Raquel continued as he gave her a curt nod, “So imagine my surprise when the man who ordered the execution, the _fucking execution_ of a hostage, appeared on the news as the leader of the Dalís.”

His eyes darted across the room. “I… I…”

“You told me what I needed to hear to let you off the hook about your brother.” She knew she deviated from every single interrogation technique she’d been trained in, but didn’t care. This was personal, excruciatingly so. “You’ll just say anything to keep me in line, won’t you?”

“What? Raquel, no.”

“Really? So why did you tell me last night that de Fonollosa had been relieved of his command?”

“Because it was the truth.” At her sceptical appearance, he added, “At the time.”

“Ah. And today?”

“I… I don’t know Raquel. I spoke to Nairobi to let her know I was sending a TV crew in, and when I spoke to them next it seemed Andrés was back in charge.”

Her huff confirmed just how hollow his words sounded, and Sergio was reminded of the amount of mistakes he’d committed. She was right, Andrés had crossed the line, yet he’d allowed him to maintain leadership. Sergio had been convinced he would keep a cool, collected, rational approach to it all, but he now saw that expectation had been unreasonable, that he’d failed to see straight when it came to his brother. Raquel had warned him about this, that it was impossible to keep personal relationships out of decision-making. She’d always had doubts about his brother, but he’d promised her he could keep Andrés in check. He was cursing himself over the fact that she’d trusted his judgement about his brother, and that he’d failed her, when Raquel’s voice brought him back to the present.

“How very convenient.”

He shook his head, trying to ignore how cold her voice was, he’d never heard it quite like this before. “It’s the truth.”

“Sure, it is. But you see, even if it is true, you still lied, or at the very least omitted facts, kept things from me. And you, a man who claims to do everything to make sure this be a victimless heist, just sits back and lets a man like de Fonollosa remain in charge, even after what he did, even after he’s clearly proven he has no qualms about hurting hostages.”

Sergio had no response to being confronted with the darker sides of his brother, the ones that had made him equally uncomfortable when Andrés suggested he kill Rubio, ironically enough the very thing Raquel was now accusing him of aiming to do. He had no rational argument to present and uncharacteristically resorted to an emotional one, “Raquel, he’s my brother.”

“Yes, perhaps that true.” She shot him a dirty look, “I can certainly see the family resemblance.”

Sergio was about to interject that his brother was a good man, that he wouldn’t fall out of line again, but Raquel’s eyes bore into him as she leaned forward.

“But here’s what I think. I think you’re an expert manipulator. You always tell me just enough to keep me engaged, to gain my trust, but you never, _never_ give me the full picture. And then you have the nerve to present it as a reasonable approach, to tell me that it’s for my own good, for “plausible deniability”. So that I won’t be accused of any wrongdoing, when really, it’s all about maintaining control, to ensure you get what _you_ want.” 

“Raquel, no. We agreed on that tactic, to protect you.”

“You think I’ll still buy that? It’s all to protect _you_.” As he shook his head, she laughed coldly, “Oh really? And here I was, fairly certain that you’re currently rather relieved that I don’t know the location of the hangar.”

The undeniable veracity of her words making him shift uncomfortably, Raquel saw an opportunity to broach something that had been gnawing at her, the possibility that he’d lied about one of the most personal things he knew about her.

“Did you leak the information about my case against Alberto to the press?”

“No. Raquel no. I didn’t. I swear I didn’t. I never would.” 

He looked at her with such horror that she actually believed there was a possibility he wasn’t lying, that maybe the CNI were to be blamed for it. She certainly wouldn’t put it past Prieto. Losing certainty that Sergio was lying though, only frustrated her and brought back her anger, pushing aside the cold, detached stance she’d adopted thus far, but she pressed on, tears in her eyes.

“You knew about Alberto’s abuse before I pressed charges against him.”

Again, he shook his head vehemently, but this time the eyes that met hers were so soft they made her heart ache. And in her current state, she took that as further proof that he knew exactly which buttons to push, knew exactly how to play her. She snarled, the words meant to convince herself as much as hurt him. “I’m done believing you, done listening to you like a fucking idiot.” 

Eyes darting around the room, she shook her head in disbelief at her own naivety. “You’ve been mocking me this whole time, from the beginning, from the moment we met.”

But Sergio still wouldn’t give her the resolution she sought, was craving, and insisted, “I wasn’t mocking you. Look at the polygraph, please.”

When she refused to do so he added, “Look at it.”

She finally dared to look at the machine, and when she saw only the regular curves that indicated he wasn’t lying, she didn’t know what to think, only manage to stare at it blankly. 

Raquel seemed to be wavering, and Sergio proceeded to talk about his father. He’d already shared parts of the story with her, but he felt the need to share more, for her to understand where he came from, to cement his devotion to the plan, to her. A single tear rolled down her face as she listened to him, and he hoped he might be getting through to her. 

But Raquel wasn’t sure whether he was laying himself bare for her, or whether she was simply being hit by another attempt at emotional manipulation. She’d said she wouldn’t listen to him anymore, wouldn’t believe any more lies he fed her. So, when he was done, had laid out his story for her, she didn’t let herself get drawn in. Rather, she swallowed hard, steadied herself, and got back to business. 

“You deleted a message on my phone from Ángel.”

He cursed himself again for not telling her about that message, “Yes, I did.”

“I’m assuming this was the message in which he identified you as the Professor?” She continued when Sergio nodded in confirmation, “So. You deleted the message, but my mother was the one to relay it to you.” 

Sergio had no idea where she was headed with this line of reasoning, but her eyes were so dark he had to avert his gaze. 

“What was your plan for my mother?”

He shook his head, “Raquel…”

“What”, she cut him off, “was your plan for my mother?”

“What are you talking about, what plan?” Not able to even take in what she was implying, he continued, “I deleted the message and told her I’d given it to you.”

“Which you hadn’t, and didn't.”

“I just…”, squirming, he knew he had no good explanation and settled for the banal truth, “Didn’t get around to it.”

She looked at him in disbelief, “You didn’t get around to it.”

“Raquel, please. What do you think I…”

She cut him off again. She was looking for answers, and had no interest in getting roped into a discussion where he could convince her of his good intentions. “And you knew that if Ángel woke up, he’d spill the beans on your identity.”

He nodded, “Yes.” But there was more to it, and while he should’ve shared it with her a long time ago, he hoped there was some truth to the expression better late than never, and added, “That, and the location of the hangar.”

Her head snapped at his words, “What?”

“When he followed me that day, he didn’t follow me to the warehouse you know, but to the hangar. The one the team will escape through once the tunnel is ready.” At her shocked expression, he quickly added, “I meant to tell you, but then you invited me to your house and, well…”

She huffed, this was fucking unbelievable, “Right. You didn’t get around to it.” She knew exactly why he hadn’t gotten around to it; because they’d spent that night in each other’s arm. As if there hadn’t been a single moment when he could’ve squeezed in that piece of information, between fucks if nothing else. Jaw squared, she asked, “The only reason you slept with me is because I’m the Inspector in charge of the heist, right?”

He shook his head, “No.”

She steadied her voice and repeated, louder, stating the question like it was a fact, “You slept with me because I’m the Inspector in charge.”

“No, no.”

“Stop lying to me dammit!”

Sergio insisted he wasn’t lying, reiterated that he hadn’t expected to develop feelings for her, but that it had hit him just like he presumed it had her, asking why else she would have brought him there, rather than straight to a police station.

“Raquel, you know me, we spent over a year planning everything together. I’m sorry I failed to mention certain things, but I’m not used to sharing anything with much of anyone. And I got caught up in my feelings for you, in wanting to be close to you. But we’re in this together, both of us, don’t you understand? This, us… It isn’t something that only happened to you, that I concocted as part of the plan.” He looked at her, desperate to make her believe him, hoping she’d be able to gauge the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes. “These feelings… They happened to both of us.” 

_If only she knew how hard he’d fought those feelings, how long he’d denied them for._

Sergio thought he might be getting through to her when her phone rang, reminding them of the world outside. She got up to take the call, soon returning with an incredulous huff.

“Another thing you failed to mention, that you’d activated the plan to free someone from police custody… Well, you’ll be happy to hear that Tokyo’s now at large. Your plan worked.”

He gave her a small nod of relief that the extraction had gone well, nudged his glasses, and tried to remind her of what they were to one another. “ _Our_ plan Raquel, we planned that together, you knew it was happening, you knew how it would happen, just not exactly when.”

She eyed at him in disbelief, “You have answers for everything, don’t you?”

“Raquel, I’ve told you everything.” He sighed, “I came here without resisting whatsoever. I’m here, with you.” 

He looked at her softly, the way she’d caught him doing several times during their time planning together, and she hated him for it.

“You’ve interrogated me and I’ve answered your questions, all of them. Yes, I lied to you in those first five months, but I’ve been honest with you ever since. And the truth is… I can’t take this anymore either. I don’t want there to be doubts, lies, half-truths, or withheld information between us anymore, and I don’t want to have to pretend like I don’t know you, like I don’t have feelings for you. I’m sorry that I made you doubt me, maybe I took your trust for granted but…”

 _No_ , she didn’t want to listen to this anymore. 

“Shut up.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

 _Would he never stop clouding her vision, could he never leave her the fuck alone?_

Voice trembling, eyes closed, she shouted, pleading with him, “Shut up.”

“All of this is… I’m relieved that you know everything, the plan, my brother, and…”

That was it, she couldn’t take it anymore, needed it all to be over. She yanked the pencil from her hair and threw it on the floor, “Will you shut the fuck up already?!” 

* * *

Raquel knew that she had been close to wavering, that his words had gotten to her. But talking to Suárez had brought her back to reality. The lie detector hadn’t help, Sergio kept telling her all the things she wanted to believe, and according to the polygraph he wasn’t lying, but she couldn’t bring herself to trust any of it. And with that, she had her answer, there was only one thing for her to do; she was going to bring him in, consequences be damned.

She knew his team would still stand a chance at getting away, that Sergio would stall long enough for them to do just that, and she was not going to stop them. But she was sure as hell going to stop him. And if he took her down with him, so be it. She deserved it. Besides, she couldn’t stand to lie anymore.

She’d been lying for too damn long. First, about Alberto. Then, to Sergio about her suspicions of him. After that, to everyone _but_ Sergio about what she was up to. She was drowning in lies and her only lifeline was to put an end to them, to bring him in, and face the music.

Raquel having seemingly decided to bring him in, Sergio’s heart dropped at the realisation of what he had to do. Her gun pointed at his back, he begged her forgiveness before grabbing it, bringing her in front of him. He applied pressure to the carotid artery in her neck to the sounds of her muttering that she’d shoot him, and she soon went limp in his arms. Stroking her cheek, he murmured soft apologies in her ear before picking her up and carrying her to the bench, carefully laying her down and pulling a blanket over her, not stopping to reflect over the absurdity of the gesture. As if she’d give a damn that he’d wanted to make sure she was comfortable, or at least not cold, after he rendered her unconscious. He was about to leave, when he made the mistake of looking at her.

Sighing heavily, he ran a hand through his hair. 

He needed to get back to the heist, too much was happening, everything was coming to a head. He could feel the noose tightening around his neck, and around those of his teammates, yet he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Raquel in that house, convinced he’d just proven her right, that he was not to be trusted, that he’d simply used her throughout their partnership, had lied in sharing his life and his plan with her, lied about his feelings for her. He’d even laid hands on her to incapacitate her, and she’d no doubt draw the conclusion that he was just as much of a rat bastard as her ex-husband.

They couldn’t end like this, they simply couldn’t. So he stayed, and devised one of his most basic plans, a last-ditch effort to get her to trust him. He uncuffed himself, waited for her to wake up, and handed her her gun back, to try one last time to prove to her that he was the man she’d thought he was, that she could trust him. Fully. 

But Raquel was having none of it, and quickly had her gun trailed on him again. Hoping she wouldn’t shoot him, though quite frankly unsure of it, he took her purse and walked out, with her right behind him, gun pointed at him the entire time. As he approached the car, he heard a shot go off, and for a second wondered why he didn’t feel any pain, wondered where she’d shot him. But she hadn’t done it, had shot in the air, and he was able to get in her car, leaving her behind as he drove away, pouncing at the wheel, furious with himself for having let her down, for having made her doubt him, for having underestimated the amount of pressure she’d be under and for failing to give her the support a partner should have.

She’d warned him when they were planning, that there was no accounting for how they would react under the pressure they were bound to face. But he’d been too full of himself, and consumed by her, to pay any real attention to it. And now he was fucked. Unless he got caught and she’d come visit him in prison, to give him a piece of her mind one last time, then he’d never see her again. He’d leave, her reputation would in all likelihood be left in shambles once it would become public that she’d had a relationship with the Professor, and he’d have to go on with his life knowing that she despised him. And he would have to try to forget how she made him feel, how he with her had lived, forget all the different ways in which she’d smiled at him in the past two years. Teasingly, happily, lazily, hungrily, exasperatedly.

He sighed, as if he ever could erase Raquel Murillo from his mind, as if he would ever want to. 

* * *

_Fucking piece of shit!_

Raquel was furious with herself. She’d let Sergio go, again. He’d rendered her unconscious, she’d had him at gun point again, and she’d fucking let him go… _again_. When she’d sworn to herself to put an end to this. What the hell was wrong with her? Why had she been unable to shoot him? 

That fucking blanket he’d put over her… How long was she out for anyways? And now she was in the middle of fucking nowhere in Toledo, in blistering heat, without her phone, in heels, walking back to face the fucking music. But even in her current state, through her anger and hurt, she was going to stick to the plan, it would still hold up. She briefly considered coming clean altogether, but still believed in Sergio’s cause. She wanted to bring him in, to make him pay for what he’d done to her, but the others could get away with the money. The government had it coming. She’d get back to the tent, let them know that Salva was the Professor, pretending like she’d only just discovered it, would be taken off the case, and wouldn’t assist them in catching Sergio’s team. So much for putting an end to the lies…

However the chips might fall following her inevitable suspension, she was going to fight tooth and nail to make sure Paula didn’t end up with Alberto. She’d take whatever deal they might offer, raise hell, call every single women’s organisation in the country and beyond. She’d be damned if she’d go down without a fight.

And as for Sergio, she was livid with him for having left her in Toledo, and whatever hesitation she might have had about his true intentions were now well and truly gone. She was convinced she knew the truth, and she was almost relieved to be rid of the doubts. By leaving her behind he had finally proven that he had been thoroughly using her since the beginning. 

Upon returning to the tent, she found Prieto, Suárez, and Alberto in a worrying constellation, sporting all-too pleased smirks, ready to attack. And as they’d figured out Salva was the Professor in her absence, it seemed she was the prey. 

_Right._

She braced herself for what was to come, focused on sticking to her story. She and Sergio had practiced for this eventuality, and she knew exactly what to say, what to omit, what to deny.

Having all of her actions thrown in her face in a rapid succession, with the three of them taking turns doing it, she couldn’t help but think they enjoyed it all a little too much. Alberto especially. What the fuck was he doing there anyways? This was not procedure, if they suspected her of wrongdoings, there was protocol to follow. And confronting her, humiliating her in front of the entire tent, wasn’t it. Suárez had pointed it out when she accused Ángel, and she herself had made sure to clear the tent before telling Ángel she needed to take him off the case. She, however, was not extended the same curtesy. 

So much for the benefit of doubt. Fifteen years of service, and this is what she got. Granted, she was actually far more involved than they knew or suspected, but they currently at best only had circumstantial evidence against her, and Raquel couldn’t help but wonder how she would have felt if she hadn’t bumped into Sergio two years prior, if her cover story had been true and he’d only approached her at the Hanoi once the heist started. If she hadn’t know anything.

As accusation after accusation were hurled at her, her eyes darted from one man to the other. Her heartrate was increasing, she felt cornered, but reminded herself, _they have no proof, they know nothing, they have nothing_. Furthermore, she knew exactly where she stood now, and drew strength from her conviction that she knew the truth about Sergio, a truth the men she was currently facing weren’t privy to. Then came the crescendo they’d been building up to, the one crime she’d committed that was truly unforgivable; that she’d had sex with the Professor. They had no way of knowing she actually had of course, only knew that she’d been seeing him for days. And yet it was blatantly clear that this was the main sticking point for them, the biggest betrayal of them all. And they looked unbearably smug throwing it in her face.

Well, _fuck them_. Fuck them, and fuck Sergio. It was clear she was on her own in this. 

Fuelled by utter annoyance and disillusion with the system she’d spent years working for, defending, Raquel made the snap decision to make them waste their time, while simultaneously giving the impression that she was cooperating, keeping to her story, all while thinking of a way to track Sergio down herself. Glaring at them, she gathered herself, “Fine. Fine”. 

She got rid of Alberto, not baring to have him in her proximity, nor looking at his face another fucking minute and with him gone, she gave them the address to the warehouse, the only address she knew of, the place she also knew he wouldn’t be. Of course, they came up empty, and she played the game, pretended to be surprised, confused. When they asked her if she was sure of the address, and what she’d done there, she scoffed. At least that scoff was genuine.

What had she done there? She’d held him at gunpoint, peppered him with questions, then sworn she’d never doubt him again, and fucked him repeatedly. Had let him hold her, had let him give her a damn city name, had made him promise he’d keep her daughter safe, had allowed him to make _her_ feel safe, cared for. 

She finally answered them, emotionless, “Making love.”

 _Love_. The fucking irony of that.

They didn’t ask her to leave, and she stuck around, antsy but hoping to hear something she could use to find Sergio. There was a photo of her and him together at the Hanoi earlier that day on a computer next to her, and she couldn’t stand looking at it, to be reminded of how he’d looked at her with utter adoration as he leaned in to kiss her. She flipped the screen down, and heard the incoming call.

It was an absurd moment, hearing his voice come through the speakers, Sergio’s voice, not the metallic one of the Professor. This was the voice she’d longed to hear when they were separated, when he’d sequestered with his team in what she now knew was Toledo. Her breath hitched, and she braced herself, briefly wondering if he was going to sell her out. 

But he didn’t sell her out. She didn’t know what she’d expected him to say about her, but was relieved when he contended to say nothing, and she looked on in disgust as Prieto refused to send in a medical team to help one of the band members who’d apparently been shot by the police when she’d had Sergio held up in Toledo. They were actually going to leave a man to die, with the childish argument that it was Sergio’s fault. She wondered which team member had been shot and briefly hoped it wouldn’t be one of the two she’d brought in, Río or Nairobi, not certain she could handle having that on her conscience on top of everything else. She knew Sergio had a doctor on stand-by, but if the tunnel had been ready for him to enter, he wouldn’t have asked for a medical team, not this close to the end of the heist. She hated that it had come to this, this was the fourth person seriously injured, if they didn’t make it then the second person to die, and her main purpose in this had always been to ensure everyone made it out alive, unharmed.

Raquel finally got the information she’d been waiting for as she overheard Prieto and Suárez talking about searching the area, knowing that Sergio was close by due to the repeater used when he’d call her. It made her realise she had an advantage over them. She knew how to retrace Sergio’s steps. 

She was not about to be a victim in all this, to just sit around and wait for the situation she’d created to resolve itself on its own. For Sergio to get away with the last laugh after having mocked her for two years. She’d willingly let herself be fooled by him, far too willingly, but no more.

Suspended or not, she was sure as shit going to find him. 

* * *

Raquel was in all likelihood suspended. The police and CNI knew he was Salva and they suspected Raquel of collaborating with him. This was precisely what they’d tried to avoid, what they could’ve avoided if he’d simply managed to keep away from her, if he hadn’t gone to the Hanoi in the early morning of the second day.

There was no proof of her actual role in all of this, he and Raquel had made certain of that, but god only knows what damage this would do to her reputation. They were accusations she might never be able to completely free herself of. He’d thought all went to hell during their date, when they’d finally reconnected in the warehouse after months apart, after too much time denying themselves of the comfort of each other’s bodies, when Oslo had ended up fatally injured and his team under assault. But he’d been wrong, _now_ was when everything was going to hell.

His cover had been blown, Moscú had been shot and was critically injured, Raquel was off the case, the police were no longer negotiating, convinced they had the upper hand, and it was just a matter of time before they stormed the Mint, or the hangar, or both. And he’d lost Raquel’s trust. 

She was out there, suspected of collaborating with him, convinced that he’d been playing her from the beginning. He tried holding on to a vague hope that once things would calmed down, once the heist was over, that she’d realise the moments they’d shared had been true. Maybe she’d return to those postcards and see the coordinates he’d left her in case they’d get unexpectedly separated, and realise he was serious about them going away together. 

_Shit. The postcards_.

He checked her bag. It was futile as it was far too small to fit the envelope he’d given her, but he checked it all the same and sure enough, the postcards weren’t there. She must’ve left them back at the Hanoi. _Shit_. If the police got hold of those, he wouldn’t be able to go to Palawan, and he’d lose the only link he had left to Raquel. He wouldn’t be able to contact her after the heist as she’d no doubt be under surveillance for a significant amount of time. If he didn’t go to Palawan, and she ever actually went there looking for him, she’d be further convinced he’d lied to her about everything. Not wanting to make a purely sentimental decision, he soon found the perfect excuse to risk sending someone for the postcards; Andrés was set to head to Palawan too, everything was planned for it, and if Sergio didn’t make it out and the police got their hands on the coordinates, his brother would be doomed. He needed to get those postcards back.

Not pausing to consider any alternative ways of proceeding, he asked one of the Serbs to take a short break from digging the tunnel, head to the Hanoi, and pick them up, instructing her to be careful not to be noticed or followed, and breathed a sigh of relief as she quickly returned and handed him the red envelope, the postcards still in them.

The team took turns resting during the night, the digging continuing throughout, and when it was Sergio’s turn to lie down, his thoughts wandered to Raquel the second his tired body hit the mattress. Assuming she was suspended, he wondered what she might be up to. He imagined she’d probably spent the evening with her mother and daughter and was now sleeping, but he couldn’t really picture her simply staying at home once morning came, waiting for the heist to come to an end, sitting it out. The thought brought back a memory, one which uneasily made him wonder whether he’d truly covered all his tracks. 

The first time Raquel came over to the apartment for a planning session after she’d confronted him, he’d asked what she would have done if she’d found the apartment empty. Her answer, then said in jest, now made him squirm, _“Hunt you down obviously, and make you pay.”_

Perhaps going to Palawan, the one place she could find him, wasn’t the best idea after all.. Shaking his head, he tried pushing thoughts of Raquel aside. He needed to get some rest, finish the tunnel, and keep his focus. There was no room for mistakes. Time was running out.


	11. The elusive truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am beyond grateful to anyone who's read, left kudos, and especially left a comment! Such a MASSIVE thank you!

_“Alberto…”_

_“I know, I know.”_

_“This is the closest we’ve been to having even an indication of their whereabouts since the Bank of Spain.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Can you get her to talk?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Are you sure? She’s been with them for nine years, god only knows what they’ve told her.”_

_“She’s my daughter.”_

_“Technically yes, but she hasn’t seen you in years.”_

_“She came back for a reason. I’ll get her to talk.”_

_“Alright. But we evidently pushed her too far today, you should try a softer approach. Show her that she can trust you, that you’re not the bad guy here. They kidnapped her, you’ve been searching for her ever since. Make sure that’s what she feels.”_

_“Right.”_

_“Get her to come in to talk to me again soon?”_

_“Yeah, I’ll work on it.”_

_“Good. And let me know if you find out whether or not they’re still together, we need to know whether to search for them individually or not, and if we can play one out against the other.”_

_“I will. And don’t worry. You and I will have my bitch of an ex-wife and her little Professor behind bars in a few months’ time. You just leave Paula to me.”_

### 

**_Wednesday, sixth day of the heist_ **

After getting a good night’s sleep, Raquel finally began feeling like herself again. No longer riddled with doubt, set on hunting Sergio down, she was ready to take him on. Engaging in some good old-fashioned detective work, and fuelled by an absolute determination to catch the rat bastard she’d made the mistake of trusting against her better judgement, Raquel retraced his steps and once more found herself picking the lock to his location, armed and angry. 

She racked her brain trying to understand how she’d allowed this to happen, wondering just how he had gotten her to trust him, to betray her colleagues. Memories of her disillusion with the system predating Sergio, and an image of Prieto, Suárez and Alberto having decided amongst the three of them that she was a guilty woman briefly flashed before her, but she resolutely pushed those aside. She would deal with one asshole at a time. Sergio had left her in the middle of fucking nowhere without a phone or mode of transportation. He was going to pay for that, and for every single lie he’d ever told her.

Sneaking into the large warehouse, she found it empty but spotted video surveillance, a truck, the entrance to the damn tunnel she felt had been taunting her this whole time, the red phone he must have negotiated from, and a couple of folded red cranes. 

She let her fingers run over one of the cranes. He’d occasionally done origami in their time planning together and she’d asked him about it once. _“It helps me focus”_ , he’d said. At least that hadn’t been a lie.

But she wasn’t there to admire his handywork, and hid, soon spotting Sergio popping up from the tunnel. She caught a glimpse of his face as he moved to the screens; he looked worn out, on edge, and pumped up on adrenaline, yet subdued. The sight piqued Raquel’s curiosity as to what was going on inside the Mint, and with the tunnel, as she kept her eyes trailed on Sergio. Something on one of the screens seemed to have caught his attention, and she heard him relay to his team that assault teams were getting ready, and that they were going to enter. 

Weapon in hand, she took a few careful steps up to him, waited for him to hang up, and put the gun to the back of his head, cocking it and letting him know with glee, that the assault team was already in. 

Hadn’t she promised just a few nights prior she’d never point her gun at him again? Now she’d lost count of just how many times she’d done it since. “Get up. Slowly.”

He did as told and she kicked away the chair, telling him to turn around. She let him know in no uncertain terms that she’d shoot him this time, and he appeared to believe her. But Sergio wasn’t alone, and she soon enough found herself tied to the ceiling by heavy chains. If she hadn’t been so angry, Raquel would’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all. Just the other morning, they’d been in bed, making plans for the future, and she’d trusted him fully, had been convinced nothing could shatter that trust. And in less than 24 hours, they’d taken turns tying one another up, and the only thing she felt as her eyes trailed Sergio’s every movement around the hangar was a very strong urge to slap him again. Or shoot him. Probably both. 

* * *

Tied up, unable to do anything but watch, Raquel observed and mentally filed everything that was going on around her. Sergio had told her while planning that there were four Serbs on his backup team; three men and one woman. But she only saw the two she’d fought; one carrying up rolls of money and putting them in beer containers, the other loading the beer kegs up into the truck. Sergio would occasionally help, but mostly kept his focus on the screens, no doubt knowing it was just a matter of time before an assault would be launched against the Mint.

So they’d gotten the tunnel done, and had begun moving the money. She assumed the two Serbs she’d yet to see where down in the tunnel, while Sergio’s team was wrapping everything up in the Mint. She wondered how much money they’d managed to print and whether they’d stopped the machines. This was no time to be greedy. If they wanted to get out of this alive, they’d better get moving. The explosives would only hold the assault team up for so long, sooner or later they’d realise the robbers were actually escaping through one of the vaults.

It occurred to Raquel that she could be in danger, and perhaps should be worried for her own safety. She knew how they were getting away, had seen the license plate on the truck. If Sergio wanted to ensure she wouldn’t speak, he would have to kill her, or take her with him. Yet her main concern was that she was tied up and would thus be unable to take cover should a swat team storm the place. She didn’t trust Sergio, but the thought of him hurting her nonetheless seemed absurd.

He had looked at her regrettably as the largest of his companions had tied her up, and had mumbled something about letting him know if she needed anything, or if she was in pain, before returning to his screens, occasionally nervously pacing the hangar. Raquel shook her head bitterly. What was it he had said before they parted ways as he was about to assemble his team at the house in Toledo? That things were going to happen, and that they were going to have to trust one another implicitly? Well, so much for that. They didn’t even make it through six days before imploding and the only thing that was left between them now was regret, hurt, and distrust.

Though she may be completely at his mercy, Raquel was not about to go down without one last fight, without striking him at least one more blow, to make sure he knew just what she thought of him. 

With one of Sergio’s men focused on loading the money into the truck, the minute the other headed back down the tunnel, she beckoned Sergio over with the excuse that she wasn’t feeling well. He looked genuinely concerned as he offered her a sedative, but Raquel knew that behaviour, recognised it from Alberto. And she was not buying it. She knew first-hand how a man could be the most attentive and caring person in one instant, only to strike her down in the next.

Sergio hated that he had Raquel tied up, that his team were going to see her once they got up, question what she was doing there and what he was going to do with her. What the hell _was_ he going to do with her anyways? 

She’d shown up without the police again, which made him believe she was after him more than she was his team. But he didn’t know how far she could be pushed, how many times he could leave her behind before she’d finally have enough of him and the chaos that he’d brought into her life, and turn on his plan as well. If nothing else, to save her daughter, as he had no doubt the CNI would use the girl to pressure Raquel into a deal. He had only two options. He was going to either leave her hanging there, to be found by her colleagues who were undoubtedly bound to appear sooner or later, hopefully later. Or, he’d have to blindfold her and take her with them until she could be dropped off at a secure location, one where she would be safe, but unable to communicate with anyone until he and his team had gotten away. 

He tried to imagine a blindfolded Raquel, tied up in the back of the truck with all the money, cursing profusely, swearing she’d have his balls, and in any other circumstances it would have made him chuckle, but in this case, it made him squirm. He couldn’t do that to her. Besides, the more he pissed her off and the longer he kept her against her will, the more likely she’d be to find a way to get away, no doubt inflicting a substantial amount of pain on him in the process. So he was going to have to leave her behind, regardless of how much he hated the thought. But he didn’t know how much she’d seen before pulling her gun on him, if he needed to worry about any information on his mode of transportation she might be able to relay to the police. Before he gained any clarity on it though, he had to give Río instructions on the explosive devices meant to keep the assault team busy and off-course, and Raquel called him over, sounding tired.

She didn’t look as she had the last time he’d witness her having a panic attack, in the apartment when she’d found his file on her. Something about her eyes didn’t reflect the fear he’d seen in them that time. But she said she had trouble breathing, and it did look like she was struggling. He gave her a pill that would steady her nerves, a sip of water, and she bit him, staring straight into his eyes, nothing but loathing and disdain reflected in hers. If he had any hope that she might still somehow have feelings for him, it was thoroughly shattered as much by the dark eyes challenging him, as by the teeth that were digging into his flesh. She spat him out, and Sergio didn’t have time to register the glass shattering against the concrete floor before she kicked him in the gut. Falling to the ground, Sergio supposed this was now his fate in life. That he was destined to fall straight into whatever trap Raquel would lay for him, still utterly unable to resist her, regardless of the number of times she’d set him up, lured him to her only to turn on him so furiously.

Kicking him felt even better than the several slaps she’d handed him the day before, and Raquel steadied her stance as Sergio got back up; she was ready for more. But just as she refused to back down, hell-bent on going down kicking, he didn’t back off either. He got up and turned to her, a hurt expression on his face as he held onto the hand she’d just spat out. 

“It would have been easier for me too if none of this had happened, Raquel.”

Adrenaline rushing, she didn’t know where to look. She hadn’t expected this, she wanted a fight, not for him to look at her like that, to be calm and appear anguished. She needed him to finally drop the façade, to rub it in her face that she’d been an idiot for trusting him, to gleefully acknowledge how easy it had been for him to mislead her. But instead, he spoke with the same soft voice he’d used in her bed the other morning, asking her to go away with him.

“If I hadn’t run into you by chance that day…” He shook his head before looking at her, “It was the only thing, _you_ were the only thing, the one crack in an otherwise perfect plan.”

Her eyes darting across the room, she avoided looking at him, silently praying he’d put an end to this charade, not baring it.

“A plan that was perfect, but that no longer is. And you know why? Because even if all this goes well.” He paused, trying to gather himself, “Even if it all goes well, I’ll be… I’ll be fucked. Because I won’t ever see you again.”

She couldn’t take it anymore, and internally begged him to spare her the pain, the humiliation, and just confess to the truth she already knew; that it was all a lie, that they were a lie. That they always had been. 

But Sergio powered through, “You really think it was in my plans to fall in love with the Inspector in charge of the heist?”

 _No, not love._ This was too cruel of him. She shook her head, “I don’t want to hear this again.”

She didn’t want her feelings muddled anymore. She wanted to see him clearly, for what he truly was. And she had convinced herself that what he was, was a simple criminal. Genius mastermind without a doubt, but a simple criminal nonetheless. But he refused to shut up as he approached her. 

“You don’t want to hear any more? Why don’t you want to listen to me anymore Raquel? Because I’m a bad guy? Moscú just died Raquel… They refused to send in a medical team and let him blead out on a makeshift gurney in there.” He held out a hand, “You think I’m doing this for the money? Really? That everything I told you was a lie?”

He swallowed hard and asked with a poignant voice, “That everything we shared was a lie?”

With tears in his eyes, he spoke passionately of the system he was fighting. It was a variation of what he’d told her when she first confronted him, but she couldn’t figure out what he had to gain by reminding her of it now. The heist was clearly coming to an end, he had her tied up, and she posed no threat to him. She didn’t know the first thing about how they were getting away or where any of them were going. She knew their first mode of transportation was a truck, and she knew the license plate number, but a license plate could easily be switched, and he wouldn’t be Sergio if he didn’t have plans in place for this eventuality. She avoided looking at him, not able to make sense of what the hell he was after, nor why she was still unsure of him when she knew the truth. _He’s lying_ , she tried to remind herself, _he’s always been lying._

But she wasn’t as convinced of it anymore, and briefly wondered whether she was experiencing a warped mix of the Stockholm syndrome and battered woman syndrome, denying what was blatantly in front of her, when he finished his declaration. Asking if she didn’t want to escape as well, from everything, he looked at her, teary eyes heavy with meaning. He went to his desk and came back with an envelope she recognised, the one he’d left for her at the Hanoi. “Did you look at the postcards Raquel?”

She looked at him, confused, wondering what the hell he was on about.

“Really look at them?”

He held one of the cards up to her and flipped it over, “These are coordinates, to Palawan, where we could meet after all this was over. Why would I have put them there if I was lying to you?” He shuffled all four postcards in front of her, then threw them aside and locked eyes with her.

“Two years, Raquel.” Pleading with her, he repeated ever so softly, voice breaking, "Two years.”

_Two years._

As reluctant as she was to accept it, his words, his voice, his eyes, it all stirred something inside her, deep inside, a feeling she’d very firmly ignored ever since she spotted that orange hair on his suit. She was still unsure, but she could feel some of the faith in him the pressure of the past six days had erased, returning. And those postcards… He had put his coordinates on them, and try as she might, she couldn’t come up with any reason why he’d do that unless he genuinely wanted her to join him.

She was still contemplating whether to believe him or not, not that it mattered at this point considering she was tied up and couldn’t act on anything, when her phone rang and Sergio told her it was Ángel. He begged her to answer and not try anything, and as Raquel let her instincts take over, something clicked.

If he answered the phone, that would be it. The call would be traced, a swat team would soon storm the hangar, he’d go to prison, his entire team would go to prison, the heist would fail, and those fighting to preserve a broken system, benefiting from it, would prevail. And Sergio would be incarcerated for the remainder of his days. 

She wasn’t ready for any of that to happen, and told Sergio not to answer the phone before her brain had really caught up to what her heart was now screaming at her. The look he gave her was indiscernible, and Raquel figured he was trying to gauge where she stood, and what the hell she was up to. Whatever doubts or questions he might’ve had he nonetheless trusted her enough, probably out of necessity, to get a burner phone out. He held it to her ear after dialling, and when Raquel heard her old friend’s voice, she broke down in tears of relief.

_She hadn’t killed Ángel, she hadn’t killed him. He was alive._

She could practically feel the weight lifting off her at hearing his voice and as she caught Sergio’s eyes while talking to Ángel, and he offered her a small smile, the fog of the past days finally lifted. While clearly panicked, Sergio also looked somewhat relieved to learn that Ángel was alive, and she was hit with the absolute certainty that she’d been mistaken.

_He hadn’t tried to kill Ángel._

This was Sergio in front of her. Not Salva, not the Professor, Sergio. And she knew him, knew his essence. He was the awkward, brilliant man she’d spent two years getting to know, a year learning to trust as they were working on his plan together. The one who’d kept his distance the last time she’d doubted him, had assured her she was free to leave, that he wouldn’t hold her against her will. While he was currently undeniably doing just that, the memory that stuck with her was of him playing with her fingers, not looking at her, quietly telling her she had no obligations to the plan, to him, that she was free to walk away. When she’d sought comfort in his arms as they’d gotten off the floor, he’d held her so close she’d felt safe for the first time in years.

_Fuck._

This was Sergio, and she knew him. She knew his smell, knew how his arms felt around her, knew intimately how his chest felt against her naked body when he laughed. She loved hearing him laugh. He had cancelled going to see his brother simply because she’d been injured, but pretended he’d stayed because going would’ve been a waste of time, and she’d been too touched to ever call him on it. He was the man who’d tended to her wounds with such care it had utterly overwhelmed her and above all, he was the man who when she finally opened up about her abusive relationship, believed her, supported her, offered her his help.

It was Sergio. Her partner. 

Her vision had been blurred with the stress of the past days, everyone around her pushing all her buttons and Sergio failing to be open with her, but now, with him, it seemed the world had mercifully stopped spinning, she’d regained her footing, and she could finally see lucidly again. She had forced the truth out of him a year and a half ago, and they’d been together in this heist ever since. He’d messed up and had kept things from her, but she’d messed up as well, hadn’t been able to hold onto the trust they had built. A trust that had turned out to be far more fragile that any of them could’ve imagined.

But now was not the time to dwell on it. Time was running out and if Ángel spoke to the police, it would all be over. Shifting gears, Raquel focused on what needed to be done for the heist to succeed, and offered to go and talk to Ángel, insisting she could keep him from revealing the location of the hangar. It was Sergio’s turn to doubt her now, saying he needed time to think. She couldn’t really blame him after what she’d put him through, but they didn’t have time for this. She put a stop to his pacing by calling his name, softly, like she’d done many a times when they were planning and he spiralled into a long lecture.

“Sergio.”

He froze. It wasn’t lost on him that she hadn’t used his name in their last interactions, had only spat it at him once when she had him tied up. But now, she said it the way she had in the year they’d spent planning, and it made his heart flutter. He turned to her, hesitantly, not daring to even entertain the idea of what it might mean. He came up to her, heart caught in his throat as he faced her and waited to hear what she had to say.

“I’m with you.”

_I’m with you._

He was desperate to believe it, desperate to believe that her faith in him had somehow been restored. But the stakes were high, impossibly so, and he wasn’t sure. She’d fooled him before, several times. “Can I trust you?”

All out of words, unable to formulate the turmoil she’d gone through, and the conviction she now felt, Raquel beckoned him to her, not breaking eye contact. Once he got close enough, her gaze settled on his lips and she could’ve sworn she felt the air shift between them. 

Chest heaving, she launched herself at him and captured his lips. She kissed him roughly, desperately, with all the depth of feelings she had for him. All the hurt, the longing, the trust, the doubts, the doomed nature of their relationship, it all went into that kiss. He didn’t immediately respond but eventually reacted and pulled her close, eliciting a soft moan from her as her body pressed against his. His hands were on her back, in her hair, and it seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d felt his lips on hers, his tongue eagerly seeking out hers. 

If any of his teammates were around to witness it, neither Raquel nor Sergio noticed as the noise, the chaos, the uncertainty, and urgency were all blissfully drowned out. It was just the two of them, finally connected, finally together, finally at peace, if only for a brief, fleeting moment.

Sergio stayed close as they parted, his hands resting on her lower back, both panting, Raquel still pressed to him. Eyes locked with hers, he asked “Why are you here Raquel?”

His hands coming up to frame her face and tilting it toward him, she offered him a half-smile, “To make you pay for leaving me in the middle of fucking nowhere.”

He chuckled unsurely and she kissed him again, murmuring her apologies against his lips. “I’m sorry Sergio, I’m so sorry. I lost my way, I…”

He shook his head, cutting her off by pressing his lips to hers before kissing her cheek, the side of her nose, her eye, whispering, “Are you really…”

He didn’t dare finish the sentence, didn’t dare ask her if she really was back on his side. He couldn’t bring himself to ask what had made her think he’d ever be capable of attempting to kill Rubio, afraid she’d take back her words, afraid she’d only said them to get him to let her go. But she nodded, his hands still around her face and he took a deep breath, resting his forehead against hers and letting his thumb trace her cheek.

He allowed himself a few breaths to gather himself, “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know, I know…” She released a heavy sigh, “You should’ve told me about Ángel.”

Shaking his head, eyes closed, he murmured, “I’m sorry.”

She nodded against him, rattling the chains that were still restraining her, and he began untying them. 

“You didn’t stick to the plan.” He attempted an admonishing look, though truth was he was infinitely grateful that she’d come, that the last he saw of her wasn’t in the rear-view mirror in Toledo, her gun trailed on him as he drove away.

She let out a puff of air and spoke softly, “Neither did you.”

“What? Yes, I did.”

“Oh really? What about the no personal relationship rule? Hm?”

A small smile spreading on his face, he shot her a shy look and she couldn’t resist kissing him again.

“Besides, what the hell did you expect me to do when you ditched me in Toledo?”

“I did not ditch you.”

She huffed, but in amusement rather than irritation. “Please. What you did is the textbook definition of ditching.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do.”

“I know.” She rattled the chains again, “Keep untying me.” As he got back to work, she continued. “But there was no way in hell I would just let you get away, not after that. You should’ve known I’d track you down.”

He chuckled, “You’re right, I should have.”

She almost fell as he untied her, and she steadied herself against his chest before rolling her shoulders and trying to stretch out the pain in her arms. “Son of a bitch.”

“I’m sorry Raquel.”

She looked at him soberly, “I am too.” 

His hands traced up and down her back and they allowed themselves a moment, just a few more seconds together before they had to part. Her hands came up to his face, her fingers tracing his features, memorising them, the stillness of the moment and knowledge that this was likely to be the last time they’d see one another bringing tears to her eyes. He shook his head, silently begging her to have faith, to trust that this wasn’t the end for them, that it couldn’t be.

At a loss for words as she gave him a crooked smile, he leaned in and kissed her gently, slowly, just barely letting his tongue brush against her lips before they pulled apart and he let her go.

She rubbed her sore wrists and, unable to tare herself away from him just yet, let her fingers graze his beard as she spoke softly, “I need one of your burner phones.” At his surprised look, she added, letting her fingers run over his lips, “I need to call my mother.”

“Of course”, Sergio nodded and took her hand in his, leading her to the drawer and handing her a phone, “but if your phone is tapped, your mother’s might be as well.”

“I know, I know…” It was a risk she would have to take, for Paula. “I just… Have to talk to her.”

Placing the phone in her hand, he held onto it, his thumb running circles on her skin, and Raquel stood on the tip of her toes to place a gentle kiss to his lips. Coming back down she whispered, “Remember your promise”, squeezed his hand, put the phone in her back pocket, and rushed out, throwing him one last regretful glance before she headed out the door to do what she could to buy him and his team enough time to get away. It all happened so fast Sergio didn’t have the chance to register what she’d said until she was gone. If he had, if he’d realised what she’d begun fearing, he never would’ve let her do it, never would’ve let her take the fall for him. 

* * *

Raquel didn’t get the chance to try to convince Ángel not to share the location of the hangar, as she ended up getting arrested right there in his hospital room as her old friend looked on in horror. She hadn’t expected to be handled with silver gloves, but being wrestled to the floor, a knee to her neck, unceremoniously bent over and felt up, then yanked out of the room was far beyond what the situation called for. There were protocols in place, and this was not how one arrested a non-threatening woman who wasn’t resisting arrest. No wonder people hated the police. She hadn’t been armed, hadn’t acted in a threatful manner, yet they’d escalated the situation without hesitation. And these were her colleagues. 

As guilty as she felt about Ángel, and those physically and psychologically hurt from the heist, the treatment by her colleagues further cemented her decision to have joined Sergio in the first place. Authorities couldn’t act with impunity and expect the people not to eventually rise against a fundamentally unjust system. And with Sergio’s plan, the people had indeed risen with him, with his team.

Now they just needed to get away.

She was eventually taken to the tent which went quiet as she was brought in, escorted and in handcuffs. She supposed this was when she should feel ashamed. For having been tricked, for being a weak woman so easily seduced and led astray, for betraying them all. But she kept her head held high. If only they knew just how deeply entrenched in the heist she’d actually been. She didn’t let the looks of disgust bother her. She felt defiant, strong in her convictions, and utterly tired of keeping up pretences. She, quite frankly, didn’t give a fuck what they though in that instance.

But it didn’t take long for Prieto to use the one thing she did give a fuck about against her; her daughter. And he hit her right where it hurt. Knowing Alberto was abusive, or not caring whether or not her accusations against him were true, Prieto let her know just what the consequences to her failing to cooperate would be; she’d be found guilty of cooperating with the robbers, and custody of Paula would go to Alberto. After Raquel in no uncertain terms let him know just what she thought of him, he informed her that he could make the accusations against her go away, but that it all depended on whether or not she helped them in time for Sergio and his gang to be caught. 

In planning with Sergio, they had counted on the fact that if any suspicion ever were to fall on her, then the police would have no proof whatsoever, and she wouldn’t have an address to give them. But now she knew the address, and while they didn’t have much in terms of proof, her presence in Ángel’s hospital room, and the fact that she’d collected surveillance footage in hunting Sergio down, was enough to have strengthened their suspicions, and Raquel knew it.

Prieto laid out her choice for her, “Your daughter, or a guy you met just last week.”

Except she hadn’t met Sergio five days earlier. She’d spent two years with him, teasing him, coaxing laughs and stories out of him, sharing her life with him, and her chest tightened at the thought of betraying him now, after everything they’d been through. But she couldn’t let Paula end up with Alberto, she simply couldn’t. So she eventually, reluctantly, relented and gave them the location of the hangar, hoping that Sergio had had enough time to get away, and that her eventual cooperation would earn her some much-needed good will with the CNI. 

The minutes in the tent felt excruciatingly slow, and Raquel could do nothing but wait. When Suárez’ voice came over the radio, declaring that de Fonollosa had been killed, her heart shattered for Sergio. His brother. His only living family member. Gone.

She wondered if he knew, hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid or reckless to avenge his brother. It wasn’t like him to do anything rash, but she knew how deeply he cared for Andrés, and just hoped that one of his team members would be able to keep him on track, to keep him moving. They’d grown close during those months in Toledo, he’d told her as much as they’d laid in her bed, had shared with her how much it had taken him by surprise and she had affectionately stroked his beard and pressed a featherlight kiss to his lips, shaking her head at his childlike disbelief at his own emotions and ability to connect with others. She now hoped the bond he’d formed with his team would provide some comfort and force him to keep his focus in what she could only imagine must feel like one of the darkest moments of his life.

He needed to move, or else it would be too late and he’d end up like his brother. Raquel knew he wasn’t about to surrender.

She had no time to dwell on de Fonollosa’s demise though, as word came over the radio that the police was reaching the warehouse. She shifted from one foot to another, squirming in the handcuffs, and her breathing turned shallow as she heard the swat team enter the hangar, searching the space, clearing one area after the other, before finally proclaiming that the entire hangar was clear. Closing her eyes in utter relief and disbelief, she let out a heavy sigh as her head fell forward. 

It was over.

It was over, and Sergio had made it out. He was alive, he was free, and as long as he stuck to whatever plan he had for getting out of Spain, she had no doubt he would make it out. 

Raquel couldn’t help the spiteful smile from spreading on her face as she looked up and was hit by the fact that Sergio had managed to pull it off, that _they_ had managed to do it, together, after all. The biggest heist in the history of the country. The authorities were left with their asses hanging out, and they would have to implement some real change to recover from this. 

She turned her expression more neutral as Prieto glanced back at her. Squaring her shoulders, she attempted to level her breathing and steady her gaze. She couldn’t even begin to take in the fact that Sergio was gone for good, was only beyond relieved that he’d gotten away, that the plan had worked, and that it was all over. 

That she could finally breath for a goddamn minute. 

But Raquel’s respite proved ever so brief as Prieto stood up, kicking his chair aside, and approached her, fuming. 

“Where are they going?”

She shook her head, “I don’t know.”

“God dammit Murillo, _where_ are they going?”

Clenching her teeth, Raquel reiterated, “I _don’t_ know.”

“You’re only making things worse for yourself.”

“I’m making things worse for myself?” Huffing in disbelief, she spat at him, “You let a man bleed out in there! You shot him, and then let him die.”

Realising her mistake when his head snapped at her words, Raquel was filled with dread as he growled, “How would you know that? We haven’t cleared the Mint yet, no bodies have been recovered.” His eyes narrowed, “Jesus, just how messed up in this are you?”

 _Fuck._ She could explain this all away if she stuck to her story. But Prieto seemed out for blood and huffed when she started, “What are you talking about? I’m not…”

He held up a hand, cutting her off. Meeting her stare with a smirk, he announced; “Take her away. The Inspector is under arrest suspected of aiding and abetting in the robbery against the Royal Mint. Take her to jail where she belongs. And keep this under wraps”, he sneered at her, “we wouldn’t want her little boyfriend to come to her rescue.” 

Raquel’s blood froze. _Shit, shit, shit!_

This was not supposed to be happening. 

They hadn’t planned for this. Sergio was gone, and this was the one scenario they hadn’t planned for. 

_What the fuck was she going to do now?_


	12. Best laid plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just FYI, I’ll need two weeks to get the next chapter up…

_“For the record, this is this is Inspector Sara Gonzáles and I am here with…”_

_“Alberto Vicuña.”_

_“Paula Vicuña.”_

_“Thanks for coming in again Paula. You’ve been back in Spain for a little over a month. How are you feeling?”_

_“Fine.”_

_“Just fine?”_

_“Well, yeah. I mean, it’s a little weird to be back, but it’s also nice.”_

_“I can imagine… I’m glad you agreed to talk to me again.”_

_“Dad said I should, that it’s the right thing to do.”_

_“And do you agree with that?”_

_“I’m not sure.”_

_“Why are you not sure?”_

_“I still don’t know why it matters. What happened I mean. I’m back, I was never hurt. You can leave my mother and Sergio alone.”_

_“Mmm, I see... This is all incredibly personal to you, right?”_

_“Obviously, yeah.”_

_“Right, that makes sense… But a crime was still committed, and it’s my job to look into it. And while it may not feel that way to you, child kidnapping is an incredibly serious crime, your father’s been worried sick about you. You’re a smart girl, surely you understand that we have to ask you these questions, don’t you?”_

_“Maybe… I guess.”_

_“Alright. Just let me know if you ever need a break or want something to drink. I really do understand that this isn’t easy for you.”_

_“Ok.”_

_“Good. Let’s start with what happened after the assault against the Mint.”_

_“Ok.”_

_“Your mother was arrested after the heist. I’m interested to hear your take on what happened around that time.”_

_“I’m not really sure how things happened, I only know what my parents told me.”_

_“Your parents?”_

_“Uhm… My mother and Sergio I mean.”_

_“Alright. But can you tell us what you remember?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Good. So, what happened after your mother was arrested?”_

_“Well… I went to live with my father, and aunt.”_

_“And how was that?”_

_“Fine. I missed my mom though.”_

_“But were you happy to be with your father?”_

_“I guess.”_

_“You guess?”_

_“Like I said, I missed my mom. And no one would tell me what had happened to her, what… What was wrong. I remember being really confused. And scared that I wouldn’t see her again.”_

_“I see. Your grandmother, Mariví Fuentes, used to live with you before all of this happened. Did you continue seeing her after moving to your father’s?”_

_“Yes. She would usually pick me up from school.”_

### 

Leaving Madrid further behind them with every passing minute, heart pounding, Sergio slowly began thinking they might actually be getting away, that they had pulled it off. The truck had been repainted and the license plates switched, and attentively listening to the police scanner, a small smile began forming on his face. The police was clueless. Roadblocks were being set up, but it was too late, he and Helsinki were already out of Madrid with the money, and Tokyo, Río, Denver and Nairobi had all checked in according to schedule and were on their way to the rendez-vous point in Portugal.

The adrenaline beginning to wear off as he and Helsinki sat in silence, Sergio kept his thoughts firmly away from his brother, but did allow them to wander to Raquel. She’d clearly been on his side as she left the hangar and had managed to keep the police at bay just long enough, but they hadn’t broached the topic of them going away together before they parted. He didn’t know if he’d ever see her again, had no way of knowing whether or not she wanted him to reach out to her. He’d taken the postcards with him, not wanting them to end up in police hands and needing something to connect him to her, and while Raquel knew he was going to Palawan, she didn’t have the exact coordinates. Sergio removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, so much for a romantic gesture. In all fairness though, leaving her a puzzle to solve had been less of a romantic move, and more one of cowardice. He’d been terrified of Raquel turning him down, and had hoped that the postcards might take the hit for him if that was in fact what she was about to do. 

Putting his glasses back on, he forced himself to focus. His story with Raquel would have to wait, right now he needed to get his team to safety and scatter them across the world. He’d think of how to reconnect with Raquel once his team was safe, and he was in Palawan. He still needed to focus, they weren’t in the clear quite yet, not until they’d at least reached international waters. 

* * *

The door closing behind her, Raquel looked around her cell, trying to take it all in. She’d been taken straight to a maximum security prison, Tokyo’s escape no doubt making the authorities jumpy and eager to keep her contained. What they didn’t know of course, was that no one was coming for her. She and Sergio had plans in place for the freeing of teammates, or Sergio himself without him needing to activate anything in case he’d be incapacitated or off the grid in the aftermath of the heist. But no one knew of her involvement, she’d demanded it. So, she was not included in any of the plans, there was no “free Lisboa” clause to be activated. She was well and truly on her own, and royally fucked. 

Sergio was gone. She didn’t know where he was, but if she had to guess, he’d probably be headed to a port and board a boat with his team, preparing to spread them across the world. Thinking of Sergio tugged at her heart. His brother had died, the only family he had left, and she wished she could be there for him. He’d shared with her just how much he struggled connecting with people, and regardless of Raquel’s opinions of the man, Sergio’s adoration for his brother had been obvious, no matter how much he’d tried to keep a neutral face while talking about him. 

The thought of Sergio trying to keep his feelings in check, brought a smile to her face, and she realised she needed to hold onto positive memories. She currently had no idea what she was about to face, when the interrogations would begin, when she’d get to call her mother, Paula, or anyone really. She’d been taken to prison in complete silence, her requests to speak to a lawyer, or make arrangements for her daughter meeting a stone wall. She’d vaguely acknowledged this could be a possibility when she decided to join Sergio’s cause, but she’d had such faith in the plan, in Sergio, that she’d eventually stopped entertaining the idea altogether. They both had. And now here she was, in a cell, lying in the proverbial bed she’d made for herself, and the only thing she could do, was wait. 

Replaying moments she and Sergio had shared in her mind, she finally accepted that their undeniable connection permeated the two years they’d shared, and that it had built a unique and profound relationship. Try as she might, she’d never been able to stay away from him. He’d entered her life just as she was coming out of a dark pit of despair, and had immediately begun seeping into her consciousness, her very being. What started as an unexpected infatuation quickly developed into more and his plan had given her a renewed sense of purpose while his company and soft, yet assertive mannerisms in their planning sessions had brought her a sense of ease. Ultimately, it had all helped her heal, helped her find her way back to herself. 

As difficult as keeping her hands off him in the year they’d spent planning had been, she could see that it had been the right decision. She hadn’t been ready for Sergio at the time, the wounds left by Alberto still too raw. The way they had eventually come together during the heist, fully, unabashedly, had been unlike anything she’d experienced before, regardless of how it had all gone to hell afterwards. She’d felt so close to him that night in her bed that it boggled her mind that she again came to doubt their connection, doubt him. But both in her relationship with Sergio, and in her current rather unfortunate situation, Raquel accepted that her mistakes were her own.

Her brain stuck in the past six days, she ran through the events that led her to her current situation, and analysed just how she’d ended up losing all faith in Sergio. When they parted ways as he was about to sequester in Toledo, she never would’ve expected it. She wasn’t proud of how she’d reacted, and felt bad for Sergio to have put him through it. 

She wished she hadn’t doubted him again, his hurt eyes haunting her, but being separated for five months, with everything that had happened to her in that time, lying to everyone, constantly being on edge, Alberto breathing down her neck, it had all stacked the cards against them. Sergio pushing the “plausible deniability” argument to its most extreme had undoubtedly made her question the foundation of their partnership, but since the hangar those doubts had finally been cast aside. And this time she was confident it was for good. Even though she was locked up while he was free, and a millionaire, there was not a single doubt in her mind, in her veins, that he’d been honest with her. He’d been an idiot at times, but an honest idiot.

The irony of it all of course, was that if she hadn’t doubted Sergio, she wouldn’t have known that Ángel had the address of the hangar rather than the warehouse, she wouldn’t have been with Sergio when he called her, and she would’ve taken the call, not worried about it being traced. Her phone tapped, the police would’ve found out Ángel was awake, would’ve gotten to him before she did, and Sergio and his team would’ve in all likelihood ended up arrested.

Forcing her thoughts away from Sergio, she internally rattled through what the authorities knew, what they might know, and what they couldn’t possibly know. She needed to get her ducks in a row, ensure her story was air-tight, and that it necessitated as little lying as possible. She’d met Salva at the Hanoi, he’d deceived her, she’d lost her way when she discovered his duplicity based on her past experience with abuse, and had made bad decisions, had let him cloud her judgement. That was all there was to it. 

_Alright. First, what they knew._

They knew she’d gone to see Ángel and had talked to him, but they had no way of knowing why, nor what they had said to one another. If Ángel had, or would, tell them everything that had transpired in that hospital room, it wouldn’t matter, she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t asked him to withhold any information, had merely confirmed what the CNI now already knew; that she knew the location of the hangar. They also knew that she had somehow found out that Moscú had lost his life before the assault team had confirmed it.

_That was it, the only aspects they could prove._

They might know that she called her mother before arriving to the hospital, and they might have the message she left her. Furthermore it was likely they knew she brought Sergio to the house in Toledo and interrogated him there.

It wasn’t much really. They had a few facts, but mostly assumptions and speculations. 

And what they didn’t know, was her actual role in it all. There was no way, she needed to keep faith in that, she and Sergio had been careful, exceedingly so. She imagined the CNI would put her under a substantial amount of pressure in the coming days, and this was the core she needed to hold onto. They didn’t know she was up to her neck in it. 

Sergio had played her since they met for the very first time at the Hanoi, right when the heist had started. If she could stick to that, she would be fine.

She could do this. Her cover story could easily explain it all. The phone call to her mother might be a sticking point if they knew of it though, she would have to lean hard on the notion that she’d been momentarily led astray, that she’d lost it. But she would argue that she snapped out of it and cooperated, giving them the location of the hangar. She could do this.

Prieto graced her with his presence the following day, demanding with barely contained disdain she tell him where the Professor went. She swore she didn’t know, and it was a relief to tell the truth for once. She genuinely believed he’d meant to go to Palawan before all this, but those plans could very well have changed given the circumstances, and it meant he could be heading anywhere in the world.

But Prieto wasn’t buying it, “Murillo, there’s no need to make this even harder on yourself. If you work with us, then we can help you, can help your daughter.”

The mention of Paula never failing to throw her off-course, she demanded, “Where is Paula? Alberto only has visitation rights, you can’t…”

“The judge ripped up the protection order against him. He’s yet to be cleared of the accusations of abuse, apparently you made quite the impression on the family and women’s unit and they’re insisting on carrying out the investigation according to protocol.”

Releasing a breath of relief, Raquel thanked her lucky stars that her complaint hadn’t been dismissed as a consequence of her arrest. She wanted Alberto to pay for what he’d put her though, or at the very least ensure he wouldn’t be able to do it to someone else. For herself, for Paula, for her sister.

“But the protection order has been revoked, and since your daughter’s other legal guardian is currently incarcerated, well…”

_No, no, no, no, no…._

“You can’t let her live with Alberto, she isn’t safe with him.” 

Prieto shrugged, “It’s your word against his. And you could’ve easily avoided all this by cooperating.”

Grinding her teeth, she snarled, “I did cooperate.”

“Too late though. They got away, you let them get away. And not only did you withhold information from us, but thanks to your little visit to Deputy Rubio, he had a convenient lapse in memory and couldn’t help us catch the Professor either.”

Raquel bit her lip. She didn’t know what Ángel had told them about their conversation, or about his knowledge of the hangar address, and she wasn’t about to get him in trouble. Though she could barely stand it, she let Prieto continue. 

“The offer still stands though. If you help us catch him, all charges will be dropped, we’ll let you go, and you’ll get your daughter back. At least shared custody, I can’t guarantee more than that.”

Shaking her head, she reiterated, “I told you, I have no idea where he went. He didn’t tell me.”

“Yet he did find the time to tell you about the death of one of his associates.”

“One was to appeal to my sense of justice, to convince me he and the robbers weren’t the bad guys in all of this, the other would jeopardise his freedom.” She smirked at him, “Hardly the same thing, is it?”

Prieto laughed resentfully, “No, I suppose it isn’t.” He eyed her for a beat before starting anew, “You called your mother before you visited Rubio.”

 _Shit._ She’d hoped they didn’t know that. But whatever they had would all be circumstantial. Prieto had nothing, he was fishing, and Raquel stared at him defiantly.

“Your mother received a phone call from a burner phone shortly before we found you in Rubio’s hospital room. She didn’t answer, but a message was left on her voice mail. Given your arrest, a judge granted us a warrant to access that message. Would you like me to play it for you?”

He got his phone out and Raquel’s voice soon filled the room. _“Mom, it’s me. Listen, I might be in trouble and if that’s the case, I need you to take care of Paula, alright? Keep her away from Alberto if you can. And…”_

Raquel knew exactly what came next. She shouldn’t have said it, but she’d had no choice but convey that information to her mother. _Shit._ If only her mother hadn’t missed that call. 

_“Mom. You remember the stranger? You can trust him. Ok? You can trust him… I love you. I’m sorry.”_

Pleased, Prieto could barely contain his glee. “Not exactly the message of an innocent woman cooperating with the investigation, is it? Would you like me to venture a guess as to who your stranger is?” He leaned forward, “So you see Inspector, you’ve undoubtedly gotten yourself into this situation.”

Raquel wouldn’t get roped into this. If Prieto had already made up his mind, she wouldn’t be able to convince him, no matter how plausible a story she offered up. She wouldn’t get ahead of herself and get wrapped up in a perpetual cycle of defensiveness, she’d answer his questions as they came. She needed to keep a clear head and take a page from Sergio’s book; not rambling nervously when cornered. And she had rights.

“I’ve asked for a lawyer, I’m not sure why you’re questioning me without one… And when can I call my daughter?”

Oozing with condescension, Prieto tutted, “Raquel, please. Surely you understand your case won’t be processed through regular channels. You’re considered as posing a real threat to this country, you’re being held under suspicion of membership in an armed group.”

Raquel’s heart sank as realisation struck her, “You’re labelling me as a suspected terrorist.”

Smirking, Prieto declared, “Quite. So you see, you are not entitled to a consultation with a lawyer, and as I’m sure you’re aware, with the help of a judge I am free to hold you in isolation for thirteen days. And it just so happens to be that the judge overseeing your case is… amicable. And sees the threat you pose to Spain.”

“It’s not going to hold up.” She shook her in utter shock and disbelief. “You’re making these allegations up, there’s no proof. They’re not terrorists, and I didn’t collaborate with them… There will never be proof. All you have is that I disclosed the location too late.”

“We’ll let the justice system settle that once charges are pressed. But in the meantime, you’ll be held incommunicado for the coming days. The Professor will have no way of knowing where you’re being held, and will have no way of communicating with you. And if he doesn’t know where you are, well… He can’t break you out.”

“You can’t do this.”

“I can do this, and worse. You should consider yourself lucky that your cell has a window and that you’ll be allowed to go outside once a day. And of course we take our international commitments of having safeguard against torture in place seriously, so a doctor will come in this afternoon to conduct an external examination.”

“Why the hell are you doing this?”

“You’re doing it to yourself Raquel. If you ever decide to cooperate, then we can discuss your case and current arrangements, perhaps grant you phone privileges, maybe down the line even family visits. But until then, we’re doing what we need to do to ensure you don’t escape the way Oliveira did. You’re considered an extreme flight risk, so I suggest you make yourself comfortable in your cell, you’re going to be spending a lot of time in there.”

“What you’re doing is illegal. You can’t keep me hidden forever.”

“We’ll see…” Smirking as he got up, he added before leaving, “Think about what I said, Inspector, I’ll be back tomorrow, we’ll talk again then.”

Back in her cell, Raquel ran a hand through her hair, wondering how things could possibly get any worse. 

_A terrorist. Thirteen days in isolation. Paula with Alberto._

And this was all of her own making, she could easily trace back every decision she’d made that led her to this very moment. _Fuck!_ How could she have expected her association with Sergio not to have such brutally real consequences? Things had started getting out of hand once the heist started, but the foundation for it had been building for much, much longer. She’d probably always been doomed in her case against Alberto, it was always bound to come down to a “he said, she said” situation. And it was well known which party tended to come out on top under those circumstances. The protective measures temporary, she would’ve in all likelihood found herself sharing custody with Alberto after what she imagined would’ve been a painful, humiliating, and lengthy process.

She couldn’t do this though, couldn’t allow herself to go down that chain of thought. She would lose her mind worrying about Paula, and so Raquel tried to keep some faith in the system, convince herself that this was only temporary. That they couldn’t hold her hidden forever, someone was bound to notice and eventually start demanding answers. Her mother, Ángel, maybe even Sergio. She reminded herself that they had no evidence against her, that she just needed to keep her sanity, stick to her story, and ride this storm out. Alberto wouldn’t hurt Paula physically, he never had before. She didn’t think her little girl was safe with him, but she needed to believe he wouldn’t lay hands on her. Besides, her sister would be there, and Marta loved Paula, she wouldn’t let Alberto hurt her. And it had taken years for Alberto to strike Raquel the first blow, perhaps he was still an attentive, caring person to her sister, albeit she was certain the controlling behaviour had already started.

Oh god, and what about her mother? She didn’t know if Marta knew of her declining memory, but had no doubt Alberto wouldn’t let her live with them, he wouldn’t allow any third parties in to witness his behaviour. How was her mother going to manage on her own? 

Raquel took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight back a headache she could feel in the making. The fact that the system was being bent beyond recognition against her was infuriating, but she was hardly an innocent victim in any of it. She had helped Sergio, was far more implicated than they suspected. The only thing she had going for her, was that they seemed to have bought fully into the idea that she’d been misled by Sergio. She huffed, at least that was one advantage to being a woman, she was constantly being underestimated, and as a result their focus squarely laid on her and Sergio’s romantic relationship.

Well, they could all go to hell. She was going to pick her battles, bide her time for now, but she was going to fight back. And she was _not_ going to stand being treated like a terrorist suspect. She had a goddamn right to see and talk to her daughter. 

* * *

Much to her surprise, Raquel was made to appear in front of a judge via video within the standard 72 hours, accused of aiding and abetting Sergio’s team in getting away. She was informed that her case would be proceeded with, and cautioned that given the complexity of the case, the investigating phase was likely to be prolonged. In addition, information about her charges and anything related to her case would be kept under wraps given the serious suspicions of terrorism she was concurrently facing. And with that, any hope Raquel had that word of her whereabouts and circumstances would reach her mother or Sergio, and that they could pressure the authorities to put an end to her isolation were shattered.

Prieto’s daily interrogations and the doctor who came in to examine her twice a week for external injuries remained the only contact she had with anyone but the prison guards, and it was evident Prieto was growing increasingly frustrated with her, and by the fact that the isolation didn’t have the desired effect on her. As excruciating as it was for Raquel, she had spent years in hiding, isolating herself in shame for what Alberto was subjecting her to. Prieto wasn’t aware of the amount of pressure she’d been under for years before this, nor the extreme six days that preceded her incarceration. At least she now knew where she stood, not in the least with Sergio. She was worried about Paula, worried about just how long they would hold her without trial, and how much time she’d end up doing. But she knew she needed to keep a calm head for thirteen days, that the time in isolation would be the worst of it. And through her training and psychology degree, she also knew what counter measures to take. So, she created a routine and exercised, kept her mind busy, slept, meditated, and was careful to maintain her hygiene.

Most importantly though, she tried keeping her worry for Paula at bay, as it was the one thing that could truly send her spiralling. Any other buttons Prieto was free to push, but whenever he brought up the fact that Paula lived with her father, it took Raquel everything she had to keep calm and try to have faith in her sister, her mother, and even Alberto, who’d never thus far laid a hand on his daughter.

After the thirteen days were up, Prieto informed her that she was granted contact with a lawyer for her charges that had been pressed against her, but that given the particular circumstances of the terrorism suspicions against her and the extreme flight risk that she posed, that she would still be denied visitors and phone privileges. Raquel was at a loss. She wouldn’t be able to fight anything as long as she was denied contact with the outside world, and she was desperate to talk to Paula, and her mother. Moreover, she knew the psychological effects of long-term isolation on inmates. There was a reason the maximum was thirteen days, and Spain was already heavily criticised by the international community for the practice of holding suspects incommunicado for that long. The very existence of those measures was severely questioned, and extending the isolation was nothing but illegal, and she told Prieto as much. But he merely shrugged in response, saying it had all been cleared by a judge, thus making it legal, leaving Raquel at his mercy.

At least she was finally granted access to newspapers and books from the prison library. She tore through the first paper she got her hands on and was reassured not to see anything indicating Sergio or any of his team members had been caught. But she was also dismayed to see her name completely kept out of anything related to the heist. She didn’t particularly want her name dragged through the mud, but this was an indication that the CNI were making her disappear and Raquel realised that in order to have a way out of the terrorism accusations, she needed to find a way to get word to the outside of her whereabouts, and her case. She imagined someone, probably her mother, or perhaps Ángel or even the inspector in charge of her case against Alberto would eventually create enough noise for information on her to be released, but she couldn’t wait, nor rely on them withstanding the pressure she assumed the CNI would put on anyone attempting to raise the matter.

She needed her case to move forward, and for these ridiculous terrorism accusations to be dropped. She requested a meeting with her lawyer and after conferring with her decided to plead guilty to the charges brought on her, knowing the eventual sentencing would become a matter of public records. She did it to get the word out on her case, but also because she was guilty, of crimes far worse than the ones she stood accused for. 

**_One month after the heist_ **

“Raquel Murillo, you’ve pled guilty to aiding and abetting the robbers perpetrating the assault against the Royal Mint. You are hereby in accordance with Article 451, paragraph 3 of the criminal code, sentenced to the maximum of three years in prison given the severity of your crimes. Additionally, you are barred from holding any public office for twelve years, in accordance with Article 451, paragraph 3b. Ms Murillo, you are a shame to the good people of this country, to the establishment, and to the police force of Spain. I hope you’ll take this time to reflect over your actions and going forward, will cooperate fully in the investigations striving to locate the Professor and members of his gang.”

Raquel blinked upon hearing the judge’s words through the video link. She should have expected this. The evidence they had against her on terrorism was circumstantial at best and she was hoping those charges would soon be thrown out, but the proof that she had withheld information on Sergio’s whereabouts was irrefutable. She had, perhaps naïvely she now realised, hoped for a lenient sentence by entering a guilty plea. But she had pissed off all the wrong people and the heist had rattled the establishment enough to grant her the maximum punishment for her crimes. 

_Three Years._

Paula would be nine by the time she came out, a fact she couldn’t think about without utterly breaking down. Additionally, she still had difficulties reconciling with the fact that she was guilty. Yes, she still believed in what she and Sergio had done, but she’d committed countless of crimes all the same, and she generally believed in law and order, wasn’t an anarchist. And people had been hurt with the heist, there was no denying it. She deserved to be jailed, for much longer than three years given the severity of her crimes. She knew she should feel no more sorry for herself than for the countless of criminals she’d put behind bars throughout the years. But she couldn’t help it, she still felt unfairly treated given how little the CNI and police actually knew. And she couldn’t help but think how differently she might’ve been treated if she’d been a man, sincerely doubting she’d be in her current situation.

As she’d suspected and hoped, her sentencing became a matter of public record, the press picked up on it, and she was finally granted a visitor. She was hoping for her mother, but was barely surprised when Ángel was seated in the interrogation room as she was brought in. Prieto was probably hoping he would be able to talk some sense into her, and further that he was unlikely to act as a bridge between her and Sergio. 

She struggled facing Ángel, her guilt over what he’d gone through because of her utterly consuming. It had been just over a month since she last saw him, and in that time she’d tried to level her guilt with the genuine affection she felt for Ángel, as well as the exasperation with his possessiveness and his insufferable sense of entitlement when it came to her life. But she was still relieved to see him, and to see him whole, in one piece.

“Ángel.”

He came up to hug her and she flinched at the first human contact she’d experienced in a month, with the exception of the guards and the doctor who wordlessly examined her for traces of torture. Being handcuffed she couldn’t hug him back, but she let him hold her for a few beats before sitting down.

“How are you Raquel?”

“Fine.” Raquel only had one thing on her mind though, had no interest in talking about how she was holding up in prison. “How’s Paula? And my mother? Have you spoken to them?”

“I spoke to your mother today. She’s fine, Paula is too.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, she nodded gratefully as she wiped a tear from her eye, and Ángel continued. “You have to tell them everything you know about him, about the Professor. They’ll let you serve your time under normal conditions, you’ll be able to see your family.”

Her head snapped to him in surprise, she thought he’d at least work up to asking her about Sergio. “Don’t use my daughter as a bargaining chip Ángel, not you.”

“Raquel, please.”

He sounded exasperated, like this was the response he’d expected, like she was being utterly unreasonable. But the truth was she didn’t know anything, not really. Only that there was a small chance Sergio might be in Palawan. And if that was the case, she’d be damned if she’d sell him out. Running a hand through her hair, Raquel was almost grateful for Ángel’s question. It turned him into an adversary of sorts, which was much easier for her to face as it pushed the worst of her guilt aside. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say that I haven’t already said a thousand times over Ángel. I don’t know where he is. Truly, I don’t.”

“Would you tell me if you did?”

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, “I’ve been through this with Prieto more times than I care to count, and I’m done playing hypothetical games I can only lose. I’ve pled guilty to the crime I committed. I don’t know anything more…”

Cutting her off, Ángel launched into the reason she presumed he’d been granted access to her for, “Prieto wanted me to find out whether you’re still sticking to your story that you tracked down the Professor and that he kept you hostage, tying you up. That he told you about Agustín Ramos’ death to get you on his side, and let you go because you both believed you could convince me not to give up his location. That your judgement was impaired, and you basically followed his instructions. If it is, there are still questions about that call you placed to your mother.”

Raquel rubbed her temples, she was so sick of this, but too much was hanging on her sticking to what she’d said. “It’s not a story, it’s the truth… Look, I let my vision get clouded and didn’t give up his location until it was too late, I know this. I’ve been over it with Prieto, there’s nothing more to tell on the subject.” None of this was really any of Ángel’s business. If he truly were her friend, he would talk to her about the things she was desperate to know more about, rather than hammer on about Sergio. “Do you know if I’ll be allowed to see my mother? And Paula?”

“I don’t know… I know your mother submitted an application to see you, but it was denied.”

“On what grounds?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“You’re considered an extreme flight risk.”

Raquel scoffed, “They can’t do this, they can’t treat me like a terrorist suspect.”

“They will until you give them something.”

“I have nothing to give. Ángel please, you have to help me. Ask my mother to call a human rights lawyer. I don’t have access to the internet and am not allowed to make any phone calls.”

“I can’t Raquel, the CNI were clear about the conditions under which I was allowed to see you. And conveying messages was not on the list.”

Her lawyer had refused to help her with this well and Raquel was beginning to feel cornered. None of it should’ve come as a surprise, but for the first time she started wondering just how long she would be in there, cut off from the world. And her thoughts went to her daughter.

“Paula isn’t safe with Alberto. Please, you have to…”

Ángel shook his head, “He’s not going to hurt her.”

“You don’t know that, you don’t know him! And even if he doesn’t hurt her physically, you think it’s safe for her to grow up with a father who mistreats women? Belittles them on a daily basis, reproaches them for everything they do? Breaks them down gradually, until he finally strikes them for the first time? How do you think that will affect her?”

As he didn’t answer, she continued, “You know Prieto has spent weeks trying to get me to admit I’m withholding information on the Professor’s location, yet neither he, nor you are willing to listen when a child is at risk, when one of your own is guilty of…”

Ángel cut her off. “Alberto hasn’t committed a crime.”

Raquel huffed in disbelief, unable to control her exasperation. “Really? Really Ángel? You’re going to sit here and tell me to my face that he hasn’t committed a crime?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do… And I’m not in the mood for this. It was good seeing you, I’m glad you seem to have recovered well, but if you only came to interrogate me then you can go.”

“I came because you’re my friend. Raquel, we’ve been friends for years, and this isn’t like you.”

She scoffed, “What exactly isn’t like me?”

“To betray your colleagues, your country. Everything that we’ve worked for through the years.”

_Where the hell did he get off making these accusations?_

“Is this a good time to remind you that you withheld information about the location of the hangar as well? Hmm?” She wasn’t interested in whether he’d done it for her, or because he witnessed how she’d been treated, what mattered was that he’d done it. He’d withheld information just as she had. “Yet I don’t see you locked up.”

Ángel had the gall of staring her straight in the eyes as he answered, “I didn’t sleep with the leader of the heist.”

“Ah, right. That’s what has everyone so worked up, isn’t it?” Smiling bitterly, she shook her head. “So between the Madonna and the Whore, for those are famously the only two options for women, I have been deemed to be the Whore, and therefore must be punished.”

He at least had the decency to look ashamed at her words.

“I know what I did, Ángel. I don’t need you to remind me of it. Look around, I live with my choices every fucking day.”

Ángel sighed, scratching his beard. “I’m not the enemy here.”

She smiled sadly, “Nor am I.” Looking at him pointedly, she said, “I _don’t_ know where he is. I swear it. Please, please let me see my daughter.”

Her heart sank as he merely shook his head. “It’s not up to me Raquel, you know that.” 

* * *

_BREAKING NEWS_

_“Inspector Raquel Murillo, who was in charge of the negotiations during the assault against the Royal Mint only one month ago, has just been sentenced to prison for her involvement in the heist. The Inspector, a single mother who has accused her ex-husband of domestic abuse, was arrested when she interfered with the investigation to catch the Professor. She’s pled guilty to the charges of aiding and abetting presented against her and was sentenced to three years in prison, but the fact that her incarceration is only being released now suggests she’s likely to be suspected of more serious crimes. Inspector Murillo’s location is unknown, and human rights organisations have expressed concern that her case isn’t being handled in accordance with the law, but authorities have declined to comment on the matter.”_

Sergio stared at the screen in shock. He’d been surprised that Raquel had been kept out of the news, thinking perhaps she’d cooperated to a certain extent in exchange for keeping her name out of the papers, but it all made frightening sense now. She’d been held incommunicado, and he could only pray that she hadn’t been mistreated during that time.

He didn’t understand how this could’ve happened. There were no ties between them before that meeting at the Hanoi in the first night of the heist, not unless someone went through CCTV for the five months they were dating with a comb, and even then, he’d been careful. Every interaction they’d had since they started planning together had been beyond prudent and the few times they’d been out in public together, they’d been careful not to attract any attention. They’d both been confident that no one would find anything, that Raquel’s cover would hold.

But she’d tracked him down, and it had all happened so fast after Rubio called, that he hadn’t had the time to process the risks trying to keep the Deputy from talking might entail for her. There hadn’t been time, and he’d again only been focused on her, on sharing a few more seconds with her, memorising her scent, her voice, how her lips felt against his. As Raquel’s parting words came back to him, _”Remember your promise”_ , he realised she must’ve had a premonition of the possible consequences to her rushing to the hospital. That she’d asked for a burner phone to call her mother to make arrangements for Paula in case she ended up arrested. If only she’d told him. He never would’ve let her leave that day if he’d even entertained this was what might happen. He would’ve made her stay behind in the warehouse, gone to the hospital himself, sedated Rubio to keep him from divulging the location of the hangar. His team would have gotten away, she could’ve taken her daughter and left. He might’ve ended up arrested, but she had things to live for, he didn’t. Particularly not with Andrés being gone, particularly not without her.

Cursing himself that he hadn’t set up a monitoring of Raquel before, that he’d respected her demands to keep her involvement strictly between them, he quickly sent a request for an update on Raquel’s whereabouts, as well as that of her daughter, and began pacing the house. He’d reached Palawan just one week prior and had since been in a state of relief that his team had reached their respective destinations safely, mixed with a crushing guilt and pain at the loss of the lives of Oslo, Moscú and, above all, his brother, and constantly running over what he could’ve done differently with Raquel. He was lost, without a purpose, but with the news of Raquel suddenly had something to focus on.

His heart sank as he received a preliminary report one hour later. Everything concerning Raquel was being kept firmly under wraps, and there was an utter lack of information on her, her whereabouts, her wellbeing, her case, anything other than the plea deal. How the hell was he going to get her out? And did she even want him to? She’d pled guilty after all, and she’d confessed to him that night in her home how incredibly guilty she felt about Rubio, that lying to her colleagues in general was eating her up inside. Perhaps she’d confessed for the lies to stop.

The most troubling part of the report though, was that her ex-husband had regained custody of their daughter, Raquel’s greatest fear. Her words that night in the warehouse when he’d held her close on the small sofa came back to him, her eyes and voice pleading with him, _“Promise me?”_ With her parting words she’d implored him to remember that promise, and Sergio got to work.

**_One month, three weeks after the heist_ **

Still isolated from other inmates, with no visitors allowed and still no phone privileges, Raquel’s goal was to keep her sanity, and not cause any problems, hopefully gaining the right to see her daughter and maybe even an early release. Ángel hadn’t been back to see her, either because he didn’t want to or because he wasn’t allowed, she had no way of knowing which, nor did she particularly care. Truth be told, she was partly relieved as she was yet to reconcile with the consequences of her actions when it came to him. She wanted nothing more than to apologise to him, but couldn’t do so without coming clean, which wasn’t an option. But she was desperate to see someone, anyone she knew, the effective isolation beginning to take a serious toll on her.

Prieto’s visits had become increasingly rare and the next time she got a visitor, she was more than a little surprised to find Alicia Sierra waiting for her, accompanied by none other than Alberto. 

She and Alicia had for years had a complicated relationship, alternating between being genuine friends, competitors, acquaintances, even adversaries at times. She still fondly remembered the many laughs they’d shared in the academy whenever they were on more or less good terms, and they had been merciless in their takedowns of the men around them which they both agreed where less than impressive. After graduating from the academy they’d crossed paths sporadically, but Alicia’s reputation preceded her. She became known for doing anything to achieve results, and thus quickly became a darling of the CNI, who where always looking for allies within the police. It made sense Prieto would’ve sent her, but Raquel couldn’t understand why on earth she had Alberto with her. Alicia could never stand him, had in fact been one of the few people to see right through him, and had even warned Raquel about him early on. 

“Raquel.”

“Alicia. What an unexpected delight.”

Alicia smiled brightly, “Isn’t it just?”

Raquel smirked and nodded towards Alberto, who was seated with barely contained rage. “And in such fine company too.”

“Where is she?”

Raquel’s brow buried in confusion at Alberto’s words, “Who?”

“Don’t fuck around Raquel.”

Ignoring her ex-husband, she focused on Alicia. “Where is who?”

“Paulita dear. Who do you think?”

Panic instantly gripped Raquel, “What the hell are you taking about?” Fists banging into the table, she stood up and shouted at Alberto, “What the fuck have you done to her?”

The slap caught her utterly of guard. Perhaps it shouldn’t have, but Alberto had never laid a hand on her in front of anyone else, it had been over two years since she’d last been struck by him, and god help her, she didn’t expect it. 

She barely registered his growl as his palm connected with her cheek, “You bitch.” 

She didn’t know what hurt more, the physical pain or the shock and humiliation. She had promised herself that he would never get the opportunity to lay a hand on her again, that she’d never be defenceless against him again, and yet here she was, cheek burning again. This time though, her instincts immediately kicked in, and she slapped him right back, handcuffed, the back of her right hand hitting his chin and cheek with a loud, hollow thud. And she slapped him with the pent-up rage of years of abuse, of humiliations, and of the shame that she inexplicably had always felt for _his_ actions.

It was Alberto’s turn to look at her in shock and Raquel wouldn’t deny she enjoyed seeing his expression, took pleasure in the dull ache in her hand from finally hitting him back. Adrenaline rushing, she briefly wondered how this might end, and who would land the final blow. Thankfully though, Alicia’s arm came up in front of Alberto’s chest before he had a chance to react.

“Get out Alberto.”

“What? Me?”

“Get. Out. You knew what would happen if you couldn’t control yourself.”

“But it’s my…”

“I said get out.”

He glared at Raquel but eventually did as told as Alicia shot her a slightly apologetic look. Her hands shaking, Raquel took a few deep breaths to steady herself, to remind herself that she wasn’t still married to him, that he no longer held any power over her, grateful to Alicia for giving her a few moments to collect herself. 

Having steadied her nerves, she asked, “Alicia, what the hell is going on?”

“You really don’t know?”

“Don’t know what? What happened to Paula?”

“She’s gone.”

“What do you mean she’s gone? How can she be gone? Since when?”

“Since the day before yesterday.”

“And I’m only hearing about this now?”

“We wanted to know more before we spoke with you. You’re not exactly considered a reliable source of information at the moment.”

“And?”

“And we found nothing, so here I am.”

“What happened?”

“Your mother picked her up from school. She was supposed to take her to Alberto’s and stay with her until he and your sister came home.” Alicia smiled at her sweetly, “It was apparently their date night, isn’t that romantic?” As her words failed to elicit any reaction out of Raquel, she continued, “Anyways, once they got home, your mother and Paula were nowhere to be found, and no one has either seen or heard from them since.”

A weight was lifted off Raquel’s shoulders. If her mother had taken Paula, after the message Raquel had left her, she was certain that meant Sergio had stayed true to his word, and her little girl was safe. She was probably confused as hell, but she was with her grandmother, and out of Alberto’s reach. And short of being released and reunited with her daughter, this was just about the best news Raquel hadn’t dare to hope for. 

“You suddenly seem relieved Raquel.”

Alicia was good, and Raquel knew she shouldn’t lie too much, needed to keep to her story at all times, not let her guard down. “I am. Paula’s with my mother, and out of my abusive ex-husband’s house. Why shouldn’t I be relieved?”

“Not many mothers would be hearing that their child has recently been kidnapped.”

She knew what Alicia was fishing for, but Raquel wasn’t interested in playing games with her, and stated flatly. “I don’t know where she is.”

The redhead nodded, “You know Raquel, I’ve read the transcripts of your interrogations with Prieto, and I believe you’re genuinely concerned for Paula’s safety. And that you think Alberto might hurt her. And for the record, I don’t doubt your accusations against him, I hope you know that?”

Raquel nodded, unexpectedly comforted by the fact that someone who knew Alberto, and who was a fellow officer, would actually believe her. 

“I understand why you’re relieved.”

Alicia’s voice was soft, but Raquel knew her, knew she was an expert at mixing genuine emotions into her work, yet that she never lost sight of her goal. “But?”

“But I don’t think your mother woke up one day, decided to kidnap Paula and found a way to do it without leaving any semblance of a trace, and I’m fairly certain that’s not what you think either.”

“Your point being?”

“Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?” At Raquel’s silence, Alicia threw her hands in the air, “Alright, fine. You went and fell in love with the first sap who came your way, you helped him with his heist”, as Raquel was about to protest she quickly added with an overly accommodating smile, “or at the very least let him get away. You went and got yourself arrested, and once it became publicly known that you’ve been sentenced to three years in prison for your crimes, your boyfriend kidnapped your daughter. All, I’m guessing, according to plan.”

Tilting her head, Alicia bit her lip, squinting at Raquel. “That’s what that message for your mother was about, wasn’t it? About Paula and trusting the stranger?”

Raquel winced internally, she preferred Prieto interrogating her. Alicia was much sharper than he was, much more apt at connecting the dots, and less likely to underestimate her. But she couldn’t let her know she’d hit a nerve. It was all circumstantial, that message didn’t prove anything.

Raquel shrugged, staring Alicia down in defiance. “That’s a nice little theory, one that’s unfortunately grounded neither in reality nor facts.”

Alicia sighed and changed her tactic. “Why are you doing this? Why are you protecting him? Sitting here while he’s out god knows where enjoying all of his millions?”

“As I’ve repeatedly told Prieto, I don’t know where he is.”

“But he’s the one who arranged for Paula to disappear, isn’t he?”

“How could I possibly know that Alicia? I’ve been cut off from the world for almost two months now.”

“But you think it’s him, don’t you?”

Raquel stayed quiet. 

“I know you Raquel. You’d never be this calm if Paula might be in any kind of danger. And lovely as your mother might be, I very much doubt she’s particularly well equipped to take a child and be on the run. So if you’re calm, that means someone else is pulling the strings here.”

“Like I said, I don’t know.”

“Alright, let’s say that’s the case. Was it worth it though? Throwing away your life for what? A good fuck? Were you really that desperate?”

Raquel scoffed. “What are you doing Alicia? Hitting me with every interrogation technique in just one chat…. You’re hoping to confuse me and push my buttons so that I’ll what exactly? Hm? Give you information I don’t have access to? I don’t know where the Professor is, I don’t know where Paula is, and I don’t know what happened to her.”

Sierra smirked, “Like I said, I know you Raquel. And I’m not buying your story.” Throwing her arms up with a sigh, she added as she stood, “But fine, if you’re not ready to talk, then so be it, it’s your funeral.” She came around the table, kissed Raquel’s cheek and walked out with a wink, “I’ll be back darling, take care.”

Back in her cell, Raquel let the feeling of sheer relief wash over her. Her little girl was safe, she was out of Alberto’s clutches, with her mother. Sergio had kept his word. Hit with immense gratitude for him, Alicia’s words came back to her.

_“You went and fell in love..”_

Absurdly enough, she hadn’t thought in those terms before, her analysis of her relationship with Sergio, her feelings for him, having always been centred around trust. Ángel had asked her if she loved him, but she’d been unable to answer at the time, hopped up on adrenaline, relief that Ángel was fine, worry that Sergio might not get away, apprehensive about what it would all mean for her. But now, with Alicia’s statement, it was ridiculously obvious that she had in fact fallen in love with Sergio.

She didn’t know when exactly it had happened, perhaps when she’d caught his eyes at the hospital, or when he’d unexpectedly lunged at her that night they’d shared too much wine and he’d hummed into her mouth as she’d let her hands wander up his back to the nape of his neck. It could’ve been in one of the countless small, seemingly insignificant moments they’d shared while planning, or when she’d seen him sitting at the Hanoi the first morning of the heist, and her heart had leapt at finally hearing his voice again. Regardless, it was clear to Raquel that she’d fallen deeply in love with him in the two years she’d known him.

_She loved Sergio._

Raquel allowed the words to linger, trying them out as a sense of warmth, safety, and certainty flowed through her.

She loved Sergio, and she would see him again. Paula and her mother were with him, or they would soon be, of that she was certain. And he was probably in Palawan after all.

**_Two months after the heist_ **

A nightmare started Raquel awake. Heart pounding, she blinked in the darkness, trying to get her bearings. She briefly thought she was at home, in her bed, but the room was pitch black and the faint buzzing sound she detected wasn’t familiar, nor was the narrow, hard bed she was lying on. Letting her hands run over the bed, the cold metal railing she soon encountered brought her back to reality. She was in prison, serving the very beginning of her three-year sentence. 

Running a hand over her forehead, she sighed deeply. It had been two months since the heist, since she’d seen Paula, since she’d seen Sergio. Two months since she felt his hands on her, since he asked her to go away with him. There was no indication that the CNI had found…

She jolted up, suddenly fully awake. _Shit._ Two months, it had been two months. And yet she hadn’t gotten her…

 _No, no, no, no, no_ , this was _not_ happening, not a chance in hell. 

It couldn’t be, it simply couldn’t, she wouldn’t have it.


	13. Waiting game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Work is quite hectic at the moment so I’m afraid I’ll only be able to update every other week going forward, sorry about that!

_“Right. The day you disappeared, we know your grandmother did just that, picked you up from school. Are you alright telling me what happened that day?”_

_“What I can remember, it was a long time ago.”_

_“Of course, I understand that. Why don’t you walk me through it.”_

_“Okay. I was staying with dad and aunt Marta, and after a while dad told me that mom was in prison. Everyone talked about it at school too, called her a traitor.”_

_“I told Paula about Raquel’s arrest once it reached the press, so when she’d stayed with us for a month.”_

_“Alright. Paula, why don’t you continue.”_

_“Uhm… That day my grandmother picked me up from school like she usually did, but she didn’t take me home. We went to a garage and there was this man waiting for us. She told me not to be scared, made me put on a wig and change my jacket, then we got in the car and left.”_

_“Who was the man?”_

_“I don’t know.”_

_“Was it mr. Marquina?”_

_“No.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Yes, Sergio met us later, that wasn’t him.”_

_“Alright… And the man in the car, did he take you all the way to Palawan?”_

_“No. He took us most of the way, then we met Sergio, and he took us to Palawan.”_

_“And did you find out his name?”_

_“Who? Sergio’s?”_

_“No, sorry. The man in the garage, who took you out of Spain.”_

_“Oh. No.”_

_“So what did you call him?”_

_[Silence]_

_“Paula?”_

_“Marsella. He said we should call him Marsella.”_

### 

Sitting up in bed, with no option of turning the lights on, Raquel tried to sort out her thoughts. Darkness or not, there was no way in hell she was pregnant, she simply wouldn’t have it. She had an IUD for fuck’s sake, those were supposed to be basically full proof. 

Basically full proof, not actually fool proof.

_No._

She was most certainly not having it. Not a pregnancy, not now, not like this. Not ever in fact. She was done, Paula was more than enough, she didn’t want any more children. 

Shaking her head and running a hand through her hair, Raquel recognised she was getting ahead of herself. Just the fact that she hadn’t gotten her period in two months when it usually came like clockwork didn’t necessarily equate to a pregnancy. Maybe she’d just entered menopause on the earlier side, or the stress of being imprisoned and Paula disappearing was affecting her body more than she’d realised.

Yes, that made sense. She’d been isolated for two months and she could tell it was getting to her mentally, obviously it would affect her physically as well. Lying back down, a hand on her forehead, Raquel sighed heavily. She was not pregnant, definitely not. _What a relief_. 

Unable to go back to sleep though, she eventually accepted that she would have to face matters head on, shoving her head in the sand would not do. She could not afford to lose sleep, her situation was precarious enough as it was, and sleep was vital to keep at least a remnant of her sanity.

_Shit._ That meant she’d have to ask to see the prison doctor first thing in the morning, and she didn’t trust that information not to make its way back to Alicia at record-breaking speed. 

And what would she do if she were pregnant? Sergio had been a sick child, and his brother had suffered from a fatal genetic disease. Shaking her head again, she told herself this was most certainly _not_ happening. She was not an incarcerated 42-year-old woman, reputation in tatters, pregnant by accident, with no clue as to where the father was. 

_No._

There simply was no way. There had to be another explanation, there without a doubt was another explanation. She hadn’t had any symptoms; no nausea, no significant fatigue, nothing. She was imagining things, being in prison was getting to her. She was definitely _not_ fucking pregnant.

Except of course she was. That damned stick the prison doctor handed her with a nod towards the bathroom confirmed it. In shock, Raquel picked up the packaging and read every detail, vaguely hoping that the expiration date had passed, that she’d misread the instructions, or that the blasted plus-sign that was mocking her actually stood for “On the plus-side, at least you’re not pregnant.” In short, she desperately needed it to be a false negative, and vaguely considered asking the doctor for a second one, but remembered that he wasn’t there for her, was just there to make sure she didn’t croak on his watch. Coming out of the bathroom in shock, the doctor deduced the results and offered to talk about options. Shaking her head, she asked to be taken back to her cell, already aware of her choices: keep the baby, have it and give it up for adoption, or, up until the fourteenth week, have an abortion. 

Pacing her cell, Raquel tried to come up with scenarios for why it couldn’t be real. Perhaps she was dreaming, or hallucinating. Maybe they’d slipped something in her food, or they’d faked the pregnancy test, hoping she’d crack thinking she was expecting. Shaking her head, she recognised she was losing her mind and, slowly beginning to accept the undeniable, she sat heavily on the bed, elbows resting on her knees, hands in her hair, wondering just how she’d ended up in this position. 

42\. 

In prison. 

Pregnant. 

Knocked up by one of the most wanted men in Spain.

Laughing bitterly at the realisation that her life was currently playing out like the plot of a poorly written movie, she straightened up and rubbed her temples. Nice little mess she’d gotten herself in. She picked up a book trying, and failing, to keep her mind busy until her scheduled exercise-time. She needed to clear her head, she had a decision to make: Have the baby, or not. That was all there was to it. 

As her time to exercise finally arrived, Raquel began warming up with a slow jog. Looking around the prison yard, taking in the walls around her, the barbed wire, the state of her life, the fact that she was already failing one child, she realised with a hint of a pang that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t have this child. 

* * *

After meeting Marsella, Paula and Mariví in Vietnam, and bidding the large man goodbye, Sergio felt like he was living in an alternate reality bringing Raquel’s family to Palawan, Paula clinging to her grandmother and eyeing him suspiciously. 

But it felt even more absurd for the three of them to reach his house and slowly begin settling into their new lives. His brother was gone, he’d still not been able to locate Raquel, yet her family was there with him. Sergio let them have the house, while he stayed in the guest house right next to it. Firmly out of his comfort zone, his instinct was to lock himself in the guest house and not come out for the near discernible future, but he did realise they had arrived with very few belongings and offered to take them to the market the following day to pick up food and other necessities. Raquel’s daughter appeared rather subdued and uninterested, while Mariví tried her best to make conversation with him, but Sergio was at a complete loss on how to act and only managed to increase his own discomfort. Overwhelmed, wanting to give them space, and himself some time to come up with topics of conversation and a way to make himself interact normally with Raquel’s family, Sergio effectively isolated himself in the guesthouse after that market trip, avoiding them altogether.

On the fourth day though, there was a knock at his door and to his surprise Paula was waiting on the other side.

“Paula? Is everything alright?”

Her arms swinging as she was casually twisting, the girl nodded. “Can you swim?”

“Excuse me?”

“I want to go in the ocean, but abuela doesn’t want to so she said I should ask you.” Tilting her head, she squinted, “Do you know how to swim?”

Scratching his beard, Sergio chuckled, “I do know how to swim, yes.”

The girl smiled widely, “Good! So we can go?”

_Oh._ Realising he stepped right into that one, Sergio made a mental note of being more careful going forward. He hadn’t spent any time alone with Paula thus far, and had no idea how to interact with her, but she was currently looking at him with such expectation and excitement that he couldn’t bring himself to turning her down.

“Sure. Just let me get changed.”

Paula jumped up, “Ok! I’ll go put on my swimsuit”, and ran off shouting back at him, “I’ll be really quick!”

He caught Mariví’s eye as he met up with Paula on the beach shortly after. She gave him a cryptic smile before heading back inside and he wondered if she’d set him up, used her granddaughter to coax him out of the guesthouse. He spent two unexpectedly easy hours with Paula on the beach and when Mariví called the girl back in, she also invited him over for dinner that evening. 

“Thank you for dinner, it was excellent.”

“Thank you.” Raquel’s mother smiled knowingly, “You couldn’t hide in there forever.”

Nudging his glasses, feeling very much caught, Sergio settled his gaze firmly on his hands, not knowing what to do with himself. There was something about Raquel’s mother, something he recognised from Raquel but that in her mother was fundamentally different. Daring a glance at Mariví, catching her eye, he realised it was a refusal to back down. But whereas he’d witnessed it in Raquel in a combative mode, her mother just gave off a calm patience. It was equally efficient, if not more so, and he finally nodded.

“Right, right.”

Chuckling, she let a finger run over her glass and asked, “How long have you known my daughter?”

Sergio had expected some kind of questioning, and had decided to be perfectly forthcoming having learned his lesson about keeping things to himself the hard way with Raquel. He took a deep breath, “A little over two years.”

“Ah. So you didn’t meet once all this started.”

Sergio shook his head, unable to face Mariví’s piercing gaze, uncomfortable sharing his story with Raquel, yet unexpectedly finding himself wanting to do so.

“That explains the message she left.”

“What message?”

“The last day I saw her, she left a message asking me to take care of Paula, to keep her away from her father.” Mariví eyed him softly, “And she told me that I could trust you.”

Realisation dawned on him, “That’s why you agreed to come.” 

She nodded in confirmation and Sergio could’ve kicked himself. He’d been clueless letting Raquel walk out of that warehouse, while she’d clearly expected the worst and did what she needed to do to ensure her daughter’s safety. He should’ve seen it, should’ve understood when she asked for a burner phone, should’ve stopped her.

Mariví hummed in reply, and was sipping on her water when something seemed to strike her. “Wait, you’ve known Raquel for two years… You’re not…”

“What?”

“Raquel met someone not long after separating from Alberto. She wouldn’t tell me much about him, but I know that they had a fling of some sorts. Was that you?”

At Sergio’s sheepish nod, Mariví pensively added, “I thought it only lasted a few months, she told me that it ended.”

“It did.”

“Then it started again”, she more stated than asked.

Sergio shifted uncomfortably, but Mariví either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and waited for him to answer. 

Nudging his glasses, he started unsurely, “Uhm. We kept seeing each other as… As friends, associates.”

“But that’s not what you are now.”

“I’d like to think we still are those things.”

Mariví smiled knowingly, “And more…”

Chuckling, Sergio looked down at his hands before nodding, “And more.”

After a few moments of easy silence she asked, “My daughter isn’t exactly innocent, is she?”

He shook his head, and Mariví turned to face the ocean, whispering, “Good for her.”

The wind drowning out her whisper, Sergio didn’t hear Mariví, but he did catch her wipe at a tear and got up, overtaken with guilt, mumbling his way through thanking her for dinner and wishing her a good night. She called out as he walked away, “Why don’t you come by for lunch tomorrow?” 

He turned to her unsurely and nodded shily when she added, “We should probably all get to know one another, don’t you think?” 

* * *

The day after her pregnancy test, Raquel was barely surprised when the guards knocked on her cell, announcing she had a visitor. _So much for patient doctor confidentiality_. She didn’t even bother hiding her disdain as she sat down opposite a particularly smug-looking Alicia.

Sierra played the long game in the interrogations. She was establishing trust and much to Raquel’s discomfort, it was working. She knew what her interrogator was doing, knew it was all fake, yet it worked all the same. Alicia represented the only contact she had with the outside world, the only link she had to her old life, and she was the only person who would actually talk to her. The lines kept getting blurrier, and Raquel had to constantly remind herself to remain vigilant, to maintain her distance.

With that in mind, she forced a smile, “Alicia, this is an unexpected surprise. What did I do to deserve another visit so soon?”

“I heard you were feeling under the weather, so I wanted to check up on you.”

“How very thoughtful. But you shouldn’t have bothered, I feel fine.”

Alicia bit her bottom lip with a smirk, leaned back in her chair, and dropped all pretences. “So. You went and got yourself knocked up… I must admit I’m a little disappointed, I really thought higher of you.”

Raquel huffed, unfazed that she would come to rub it in, to try and make Raquel feel like an idiot for getting herself in this position. She didn’t need Alicia for that, not in her current state, she felt plenty like an idiot already.

“Yes, I’ve noticed in these chats of ours you hold me in such high regard.”

“Oh that? We were just having a bit of fun, no? Felt like we were back in the Academy, running drills and what not.” She gave Raquel a crooked smile before smacking her lips, “But seriously Raquel. A baby? I mean…” 

She threw her arms up, and Raquel stared at her, part amused, part bemused, wondering just what this show was for, what she hoped to accomplish by it, what was in it for her. Best she could figure, Alicia feared a child might strengthen her bond with Sergio, make her less likely to sell him out, and therefore rather she get rid of it. But Alicia’s mocking had the entirely opposite effect, as it reminded her not only of the fact that this foetus was actually Sergio’s, but further that it was her choice to make, that it shouldn’t be a decision governed solely by her current circumstances, but also by what she felt, what she actually wanted.

Thanks to Alicia, for the first time since her arrest, Raquel felt a semblance of control. They’d picked Sierra as an interrogator because she was good, but also because neither Prieto nor Ángel had gotten anything out of Raquel, and Prieto must’ve hoped an old acquaintance would remind her of everything she’d thrown away for love. But what they failed to understand was that she hadn’t thrown it all away for love. She’d fallen deeply for Sergio, yes, but she joined him because she couldn’t deny his cause had a point, because they shared a common goal. She did it for her country, for a more just world, for her daughter, for herself. 

Alicia’s evident disdain reminded Raquel of her own strength, of the decisions that had led her here. No matter how many times Sierra and Prieto had implied or tried to convince her that she had merely been a pawn to Sergio, that she’d been a fool for letting herself get swept up in a fake love affair, Raquel knew what had actually transpired: She had made choices, knowing the risks involved, and now she was paying the price for it. And the truth was, she’d do it again in a heartbeat, because nothing Prieto, Alicia, Ángel or the current illegal circumstances under which she was being held had convinced her she’d made the wrong decision, nor that she’d been mistaken in trusting Sergio. The incarceration and isolation was undoubtedly getting to her, but she needed to hold on to what she knew; she knew who she was, she knew what she was fighting for, she knew who she was fighting for. 

And now that this new life was growing inside of her, she had an additional reason to keep fighting. And with that, Raquel knew she’d have this child.

The fact that Alicia had made her realise that she actually wanted to keep the baby amused Raquel, and she tutted, “Alicia please. We may not be on the same side, but there’s no need for this pettiness, is there?” 

Alicia waved her off, “Well, just so you know, we can arrange for an abortion, you don’t need to worry about that.”

“I’m touched.”

Sierra’s eyes narrowed as she considered her, “You’re rather unsympathetic today.”

“Yes. The lack of patient doctor confidentiality has left me in a foul mood.” 

Alicia shrugged, “What did you expect?”

“This exactly. But it annoys me all the same.”

“Right, especially with all those pregnancy hormones flying around. I can imagine it’s getting more and more difficult to control your emotions.”

Raquel merely nodded calmly, “It is.” 

“Alright.” Alicia clasped her hands and bit her lower lip, “Well, this turned out to be far less amusing than I had hoped.” She got up, “Let one of the guards know if you want to take me up on that abortion Raquel. Don’t worry about the cost, it’ll be on the house.”

Shaking her head, Raquel let out a huff of air, “Really Alicia, your generosity knows no bounds.”

“I know.” Stretching and craning her neck, Sierra knocked on the door to be let out. “I’ll see you soon Raquel, hopefully next time with your head _out_ of your ass?”

**_Three months after the heist_ **

Sergio shut his laptop and shoved it aside in frustration. There was still no indication whatsoever of where Raquel was being held, nor what state she might be in, and he was at a loss. He’d channelled money to human rights group and funded a variety of lawyers to work on Raquel’s case, but no one was getting anywhere. He was acutely aware of just how insufficient his efforts were, but other than pushing for her case, planting messages for her, and trying to locate her, he didn’t know what more to do. 

He, Mariví and Paula had settled into a routine of some sorts. Paula had started school and Mariví would drop her off, while Sergio usually picked her up, and he would have lunch with them on Sundays. They would occasionally have tea or dinner together as well, even breakfast, but Sunday-lunch had become a staple. They’d slowly begun getting more comfortable around one another, and Sergio knew he owed it all to them. Mariví didn’t seem to be bothered by his awkwardness, would simply wait for him to get over it, knowing he had nowhere to hide. And Paula, probably because she was still unaware of the role he’d played in the disruption of her life, had accepted him as a neighbour, a friend of sorts, someone she could coax into keeping her company when her grandmother was busy or either unable or unwilling to entertain her.

He was beginning to relax around them, and even found himself looking forward to their time together. He’d always preferred solitude but having regained it after the heist, after his time with Raquel and then his team, he found he was no longer used to it and that he’d often get overtaken by darkness when alone. The time he spent with Raquel’s family though, quickly proved beyond a mere distraction from obsessing over his brother, over Raquel. He unexpectedly enjoyed having conversations about everything and nothing, and hearing about what new things Paula had discovered, what new things she’d learned both in school and from her friends. The girl seemed to be adapting as well as could be expected, but he knew he wasn’t privy to her questions and outbursts about her mother, her father, Spain. And he was further acutely aware of the fact that Raquel’s mother was displaying concerning symptoms when it came to her short-term memory; sharp in one instance, seemingly gone the next, even forgetting to get Paula ready for school on a few occasions, Sergio stepping in as the girl would come knocking on his door full of questions.

One weekend morning, he surprisingly found Paula sitting on his porch step, arms hugging her knees.

“Good morning Paula.” He caught the pout she was sporting as he sat down next to her. “Is everything alright?”

“No.”

“Ok… What’s wrong?”

The girl started drawing shapes in the sand before sighing heavily, “Nothing.”

“Just one of those days, huh?”

Paula nodded, sulking, and Sergio was hit with guilt at her situation, and especially at the fact that he was getting nowhere on locating Raquel. He was already working on a plan B though, it was just a question of putting necessary safeguards in place, and when to activate it. But sitting next to Raquel’s daughter, he realised he couldn’t wait too long. He needed to get Raquel out, it had already been three months. 

“Did you have breakfast already?”

“No, abuela’s still sleeping.”

“I see. How about we prepare it together then, and it’ll be a surprise for her?”

Big eyes turned to him, and a small smile formed on the girl’s face, “Can we do it in your house?”

Sergio chuckled, it seemed the guest house was incredibly alluring to Paula and she’d occasionally ask to do her homework there rather than in the main house, claiming the space helped her concentrate. “Sure, why not. We should probably leave your abuela a note though, so she knows where you are.”

“Ok.”

As Sergio followed her to the main house, she asked, “Have you seen the cat Sergio?”

A cat had showed up on the property a few days prior, and Paula had excitedly tried to get closer and pet it, but only succeeded in scaring it away. She’d set out food for it ever since, and asked both Sergio and Mariví if they’d spotted it on a daily basis.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Me either. I hope it comes back.” 

* * *

Alicia gave, and Alicia withheld. Not warmth necessarily, but a sense of familiarity, and a certain level of friendliness. It was a controversial interrogation technique, and a tactic Raquel recognized from Alberto, something she knew sociopaths used to control people, to keep them on their toes, to make them work for affection and to avoid having love withheld, avoid being punished. 

It was manipulative, it was brilliant, it was cruel. It was Alicia Sierra in a nutshell. 

Being aware of Alicia’s tactics unfortunately didn’t result in an immunity to them, and three months into her incarceration, with hormones wreaking havoc on her system, Raquel was acutely aware of the effort it was beginning to take to keep up with her, and to hold onto her own sanity. There was no indication that her isolation was coming to an end, and Raquel began thinking she would have to take matters into her own hands. She couldn’t just sit around and wait for Alicia to take pity on her, something she was fairly certain would never happen, for the authorities to be pressured into at least dropping the terrorism charges, or even for Sergio to break her out. 

The thought of Sergio trying to find ways of getting her out filled her with a sense of warmth and familiarity. Sergio planning a masterful, insane assault was what she knew best, what she trusted, what she had countless memories of. She could perfectly picture the dimples forming as she managed to catch him off guard, either by teasing him or figuring out a clue he’d hidden, just as the image of his impressed disbelief as she improved on an aspect of the plan was imprinted in her mind. But it had taken him the better part of his adult life to come up with the plan for the Mint, to perfect it. It would undoubtedly take more than three years to plan a perfect, victim-less freeing of a maximum-security prisoner, particularly since she wasn’t sure he even knew where she was being held.

She ran through what she could do on her end. She still vaguely hoped she might get out early on good behaviour, particularly given her condition, so she couldn’t risk making her situation worse by doing something rash. She couldn’t risk being anything but a model prisoner. God help her though, she was dying to do something rash. Break into the library and contact the outside, fight whoever she needed to fight and make a run for it, ignite a prison riot... Something, anything, the sitting around and waiting proving equal parts infuriating and mind-numbing. 

Thinking of more realistic options though, she figured she could fake cramps or actually injure herself, hoping it would earn her a transport to the nearest hospital to be examined. If nothing else, such a trip might alert someone to the fact that she was pregnant, or Sergio might trace her back to this prison, maybe even find a way to send her a message. She knew it was irrational, that she shouldn’t hurt herself while pregnant, and that there were about a thousand reasons why Sergio shouldn’t reach out to her even if he could, but Raquel was desperate for contact. Just a sign to let her know that she wasn’t alone, that Paula was fine, that her mother was as well, that they would in fact meet up on a beach once all this was over. Raquel shook her head at her own naivety, at the fact that they had once actually thought they could run away together, that she still held on to hope to join him one day.

That plan was as absurd and unlikely now as it had been when they’d concocted it in her bed.

Unable to come up with any safe options, Raquel resigned herself to continuing what she’d been doing thus far; try to endear herself to the guards hoping they might prove useful further down the road, keep her sanity, and take care of herself. For Paula, and for this new child.

**_Four months after the heist_ **

She had started showing. Feeling a life growing inside her was not something she thought she’d ever experience again, and Raquel revelled in the rare, fleeting moments of serenity when she would feel the baby moving, and she managed to focus only on that. She would stroke her belly humming the same songs she had sung for Paula, though this pregnancy was nothing like the previous one.

With Paula, she’d been extremely nauseous in the first trimester, but she’d also been filled with an immense joy and hope for life, she’d excitedly experienced every new development and shared it with her mother, her friends, and to a certain extent her sister. And hard as it was to imagine or even think about now, Alberto had been there with her, through it all. He had held her hair when she was sick, had told her she was beautiful as her body was changing, and breathlessly put his hand on her belly to feel the baby kick for the first time. Raquel’s stomach turned at the memory, knowing that the rosy times had in a twisted way justified his darker side, and that while he had been wonderful at times, the underlying current of psychological abuse had been ever present.

This time though, she was alone. Irrefutably and unforgivingly alone. And feeling the baby move was more often than not accompanied by a profound sadness and sense of loss. She already loved this life developing inside her, Sergio’s child, but it pained her beyond words that she was alone in it. She wanted to tell Paula that she was going to be a big sister, was desperate to feel her small hands next to Sergio’s larger ones on the swell of her stomach.

_Paula_. Raquel’s heart physically ached from missing her daughter and thinking of how confused she must be, of how much she must be hurting. She found some solace in the fact that her little girl was with her mother, and safe from Alberto, but she was still worried sick, wondering how she was taking it all. She couldn’t believe it had been four months since she’d seen her daughter, hugged her, smelled her hair, nor could she reconcile with just how badly she’d let Paula down. She’d sworn the first time she held her in her arms that she would keep her safe, would protect her from any and all harm, yet here they were, separated for at least three years when her baby was only six years old. 

Raquel tried to keep her focus despite feeling her life and sanity gradually getting away from her, and in spite of being plagued by an impressive sex drive curtesy of the hormones. It was pure torture, even worse than when she’d struggled keeping her hands off Sergio in the year they spent planning. The only upside was that her pregnancy was considered high risk given her age, and the doctor had ordered her access to the courtyard be upped to twice a day, and she’d unexpectedly been given a radio a week prior. She imagined the radio was a means for Alicia to mess with her head, that she’d end up confiscating it when it would hurt the most, but she didn’t have it in her to care, finally having something to cut through the unbearable silence she constantly found herself in. 

In the interrogations, Raquel tried to take note of Alicia’s change in moods, what technique she used when, what would elicit a reaction from her, what would fail to do so. She did it to be prepared for what might come, but Sierra was notoriously unpredictable, and Raquel never knew what to expect from any given visit. Today was no exception.

“Can I see Ángel again?”

“Why? Are you sick of me already?”

Smiling sweetly, Raquel tilted her head, “Of course not. I just need a change, that’s all.”

Alicia put a hand to her chest, “If you prick me, do I not bleed?”

Chuckling lightly, Raquel pressed on, “So, can I?”

“No.”

“Why not.”

“You know why not.”

“Humour me.”

“Alright. He still has a soft spot for you, you’ve really done a number on him Raquel. He requests a visit with you every other week, even though they all get denied. Hell, he even called me just the other day, banging on about the rule of law and blab bla bla.” She shot Raquel a pointed look, “You of all people must know how he drones on… Anyways, my guess is he’d get one look at you in your current state? No way he’d keep his mouth shut. Even though I imagine he’d hate the paternity of the baby.” Alicia pointed to Raquel’s belly, “It’s his, isn’t it? The Professor’s?”

She leaned forward as Raquel didn’t answer, seemingly struck by a thought, “Do you think that if I would’ve been assigned to the heist instead of you, that I would be the one knocked up right now?” Eyes sparkling with delight, she added with a puff, “Can you even imagine it? Me? Pregnant?”

Raquel had to hand it to Sierra, she certainly hadn’t expected their conversation to go in that direction. And no, she couldn’t imagine Alicia pregnant, but the question had clearly been rhetorical and Raquel waited for her to continue, an eyebrow raised partly in wonder, partly in amusement.

Alicia tapped a nail against her teeth, pretending to be mulling the scenario over before shaking her head. “No, I don’t think so. I wouldn’t have cheated on my husband…” Opening her folder and throwing a photo of Sergio from the Hanoi towards Raquel, she added smugly, “Not for that anyways, that’s for sure.”

Raquel had met Alicia’s husband on several occasions, he and Alicia having been together since their final year in the academy, and while she tended to act flippant about it, Raquel knew she was entirely committed to him, and she saw a rare opportunity to destabilise her. Her husband was a kind man, a genuinely good person who kept Alicia human, and Raquel doubted he’d approve of her methods any more than he would of Raquel’s illegal holding.

“How is Germán, Alicia? Will you give him my best?”

Sierra’s head snapped to Raquel, and she narrowed her eyes before catching herself and smiling, seemingly impressed. “Well played Raquel, well played. I’d almost forgotten you’re actually quite good at this.”

Though Alicia tried to hide it, Raquel could tell she was rattled, that she’d gotten under her skin. Sierra snapped up the photo of Sergio, put it back in the folder and dashed out uncharacteristically without a final quip. It was a small win, and one Raquel knew was bound to come back and bite her in the ass at some point, but it was a win nonetheless, and she had desperately needed one. 

* * *

Sergio woke up in a sweat, having yet again dreamt of his brother, guilt and sorrow quickly overtaking him. While his instinct was to wallow in grief, he couldn’t afford it, having promised he’d have breakfast with Paula and Mariví that morning. The fact that their company actually lightened his burdens was something he was still unable to recognise, but the planned breakfast allowed him to focus on practicalities; making coffee, cutting mangoes, and bringing it over to the porch of the main house. 

Paula soon wandered out and joined him at the table, eyes growing wide at the mango in front of her and she quickly dove in, proclaiming she thought they might be her favourite fruit ever. She seemed in a good mood, which never failed to brighten Sergio’s own spirits.

Between bites, she asked, “Sergio, are we sending mom a message soon again?”

“Sure, we can do that. What do you want to tell her?”

“That the cat came back.”

Sergio put his cup down, “It did?” The girl nodded enthusiastically in response, “When?”

“Yesterday!”

“Oh, I didn’t see it.”

Paula grabbed another piece of mango, “Uh-hum, I saw it, I swear I did.”

“I believe you.”

“Where do you think it lives?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s a transient cat.”

“What does that mean?”

Sergio explained the concept, and Mariví joined them as he and Paula were discussing what lifestyle the mysterious cat might have and whether or not they’d see it again. Helping herself to a cup of coffee, she smiled gratefully at Sergio, placed a kiss to Paula’s cheek and sat down. As much as Sergio enjoyed the moment, he couldn’t quiet the voice in his head that told him that he didn’t deserve it, that this wasn’t his life, wasn’t his family, and that the person who should’ve been there, was currently in prison because of him. 

But Sergio finally had a minimum amount of information. Rubio’s phone was tapped, and he had angrily called a colleague that week, demanding he get access to see Raquel. The colleague had practically laughed in his face, but at least Sergio got a name out of it; Alicia Sierra. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, and he was confident he’d soon find out where Raquel was. It was finally something.

**_Five months after the heist_ **

Raquel was in no mood to see Alicia. Her back ached, she’d been plagued by headaches in the past days, her mind was clouded and she didn’t have the energy to face Sierra, to try and keep up with her. 

It was getting harder to keep her sanity. Raquel could feel it, and her life, slipping through her fingers. She didn't know what to do with herself, had nowhere to put her energy, had no way of gaining any perspective. The only thing she had, was a constant doubt at her decision to bring a child into the world under these conditions. She'd never be able to erase that the first two years of her child's life would be spent in prison. First steps, first words, first laugh. Sergio would miss it all, Paula would miss it all, and it would all happen in the confines of her cell. 

And once Raquel would be released, whenever that would be, her child would grow up with fugitive parents, would never have a normal childhood.

There were no indications that the terrorism charges would be dropped any time soon, even though it was blatant that the purpose of Sergio's heist had never been to spread terror. But judging from the news it seemed public opinion was still on the Dalís’ side. She found her case mentioned at least once per week, and there were several calls for the authorities to press any additional charges against her if she was indeed suspected of other crimes, and for her to serve her sentence under normal circumstances, and she wondered what role Sergio played in it all.

But regardless of her mood, she had no choice but to yet again let herself be led to the interrogation room, not exactly having the option of telling the guards that she simply wasn’t up for it and that they could inform Alicia she’d have to come back another day. These sessions increasingly left her drained and on that particular day, she acutely felt all of her defences weakened, and it didn’t take long for Alicia to notice, and to make her move. 

“I know what you’ve been trying to do Raquel.”

At Raquel’s expressionless demeanour she tutted, “Trying to get closer to the guards… You’re wasting your time my dear. They’ve been handpicked for this. They follow orders,” she winked at her, “unlike some people I know.”

Raquel sighed, “Is there a question somewhere in there?”

“Look Raquel… We’ve been doing this little dance for months now, how about we speak frankly?”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Raquel nodded, “Please.”

“Do you really want to have this baby in prison? Let it spend its first two years knowing nothing but these concrete walls?”

“Is this a good time to point out that you holding me under these conditions is illegal?”

Seemingly delighted, Alicia shook her head, “No, it isn’t. Now answer the question.”

Sighing, she answered, “Of course I don’t.”

“So, cooperate.”

“How Alicia? I don’t know anything.”

“But you know more about him than we do. Give us something, something only he would know, something the two of you shared in that little love bubble of yours.” 

Raquel remained quiet and Sierra eventually tilted her head, squinting and considering Raquel. “You know, I didn’t believe this story at first… That you’d really thrown away everything for a man you’d known for less than a week, it didn’t sound like you. But seeing you here, tired, pregnant, desperate, about to burst into tears… I can see it now, I really can. It pains me to tell you this Raquel, but it’s actually quite pathetic.”

Too tired to engage, Raquel shook her head. “Alright, so I’m pathetic. Since we both know the terrorism accusations are ridiculous, drop them. And let me serve my time in accordance with the law.”

Alicia shook her head, releasing a snicker. “I don’t think so Raquel. You need to give me something. Think about what I said. Help us get him to reach out, and I’ll cut the isolation. Help us catch him? You’ll get a full pardon.” 

* * *

Alicia Sierra was good, she was careful, and Sergio was impressed. Annoyed, but impressed. She didn’t stick to a schedule, didn’t bring her phone with her, and took precautions when she was moving on the job. As a result she was not an easy person to track, but after one month of monitoring her movements, Sergio felt confident that he’d figured it out, that he knew where Raquel was being held. The prison of Estremera, in the outskirts of Madrid.

He headed over to the main house to let Mariví know but found a sulking Paula on the beach, kicking the sand. 

“Hey Paula.” The girl unusually quiet, she merely nodded in response and kept kicking, “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Ok. Do you mind if I join you?”

She shook her head and he walked up to her, starting to kick sand as well, finding an unexpected release at the gesture. Paula soon started giggling, which in turn made Sergio laugh, and he sat down, afraid if he kept it up he’d end up accidently getting sand in the girl’s eyes. 

Paula stopped as well, and turned solemn as she asked, “When is my mom coming?”

“I don’t know exactly Paula. But we’ll get her here.”

The girl nodded and bit her lip as tears began forming, and she sat down next to Sergio, leaning into his side. They’d built their own type of trust and complicity in the four months they’d shared, and Sergio was not only fond of the girl, but now comfortable enough to let his arm come around her shoulder. Being confronted with her pain never failing to turn his guilt unbearable, he thanked his lucky stars that he finally had something to go on to get Raquel to Palawan.

“We’ll get her here as soon as we can Paula. And the second she’s able to, she’ll let us know how she is. I know she misses you.”

Paula sniffed, “How do you know?”

“I’ve known your mother for some time now, and she’s always talking about you. Whenever we’d see each other, she would always tell me a funny story about something you did, or tell me how proud she was of you.”

“So why can’t she be here?”

“It’s a long story… You know how she’s taught you to stand up for what you believe in?” Feeling the girl nod against him, he continued, “Well, it’s not always easy to do, but your mother is very brave, and she did just that. And as you know she got into trouble because of it, so she can’t come quite yet, but she will as soon as she can.”

He squeezed her tighter, “It’s ok for you to miss her, you know.”

Paula sighed heavily in response.

“And it’s ok to be sad sometimes too. But your mom wouldn’t want you to be sad all the time.”

“How is she going to find us?”

He nudged her before getting up, “Why don’t you come with me, I have something I want to show you.”

Sergio led Paula to the guesthouse and instructed her to wait for him on the porch. He headed inside and soon returned, sitting down next to her, handing her a red envelope. “Open it.”

Doing as told Paula got the postcards out, flipped through them and eyed him questioningly. 

Sergio arranged the postcards on the ground with the back side up and pointed to the centre. “You see this?” Paula curiously leaned over and nodded, “What do you think it looks like?”

“A map.”

“Exactly. It’s a map, to us, for your mom to find us, to find you. She’s seen this map and as soon as she can, she’ll come.”

“Really?”

He hummed in reply and added, “Nothing could keep her away.”

Paula’s fingers traced over the shape of the island. “You can keep them if you want.”

“I can?”

The girl’s hopeful, yet hesitant voice tugged at his heart. “Of course.”

He caught a small smile forming as she declared, “I’ll put them up on my wall.”

**_Six months after the heist_ **

While Raquel tried to hold onto the faith she had in Sergio, the faith she had in her feelings for him, it proved increasingly difficult as time went by, with the very foundation of who she was beginning to crumble. Trying to occupy her mind, she would read every newspaper she got her hands on with a fine comb, and going over El País one day, she spotted an ad for a weekend trip to Lisbon on page eight, the tagline something about getting away, and it seemed familiar. Quickly picking up El Mundo, she flipped to page eight, and found the same ad. A pattern, it was a pattern. Heart beating, she flipped to page eight in ABC as well, and there it was again. It couldn't be a coincidence, it simply couldn't be, it had to mean something. Though she had no idea what exactly, she flipped through the rest of the paper, then picked up El País again, frantically looking for whatever clue Sergio might've left for her. 

She found it as she reached the game section; sudoku, crossword, code word. Smiling, she realised this had to be it as a memory washed over her.

_“What do you know about ciphers?”_

_Raquel looked up from the division of labour protocol she was going over again. She was lounging on the sofa while Sergio was seated in a chair by the end of it. “Barely the basics to be honest. We had a class on it in the Academy but with today’s computers it never really comes up, so my skills are rusty, to say the least. Why, do you think we'll need to use it?”_

_“No. I suppose you never know, but I doubt it. I was just interested.”_

_“Just making conversation, huh?”_

_Chuckling, he nudged his glasses and returned his attention to his notebook, but Raquel could tell he was fighting the urge to launch into a lecture, and she found him impossibly endearing this way. They only had a little over a month left of planning together, and while she revelled in how comfortable they now were with one another, moments like these certainly made it more difficult for her not to just walk over and kiss him senseless._

_Hoping to keep herself distracted, she nudged him with her foot, “Go on then, I know you're dying to tell me.”_

_She didn’t need to ask twice and he calmly closed his notebook, setting it aside and adjusting his glasses with a shy smile, trying to contain his excitement. “Have you heard of the shift cipher?”_

_“Mmmm... It's the one Caesar used to communicate with his troops, isn't it? Easy to use, but fairly easy to crack?”_

_“Right. Well, it's easy if you have the key and if you know that it's a code. Without the key you’d need a lot of patience, but it can undoubtedly be done. Regardless, it's truly brilliant in its simplicity. The key represents the number of steps you shift a letter in the alphabet to the right, so if the key is two, then A becomes C, B becomes D, C becomes E, and so forth.”_

_“So, it's easy enough to do with a low key, but with a higher one and a longer message, you'd need a pen and paper to decipher it.”_

_“Exactly. Now the shift cipher, or Caesar shift, is monoalphabetic, as were most early ciphers. Of course, a polyalphabetic cipher is considerably more...”_

All the ads were on page eight, which meant that had to be the key. Raquel started by solving the crossword puzzle and applied the key to it, but ended up with gibberish and tried not to lose hope as she moved on to the code word game. Raquel quickly solved it before applying the key to it. She'd been granted a notebook and pencil a few months prior and had no doubt whatever she scribbled down was regularly being read by Alicia but she had no choice, she needed to find out if it was a message from Sergio. She placed one paper on her leg to avoid leaving dents in the next page and starting horizontally, she switched every letter eight steps in the alphabet. When she was done, she separated the words and removed a few random letters. Blinking through tears, she stared at the message which made her bones ache. “The cat is back, P named it Cat.”

She let the words sit with her for a brief moment, closing her eyes and allowing herself to pretend like she was in Palawan with them, not quite able to take in the fact that they were actually all together, safe, that there was a story about a cat. That she just needed to hold on a little longer and she’d get to join them. Whether it be in a week, a month, or two and a half years, she would get to them. 

_Jesus_ , how many messages had she missed? She’d been solving all the games since she got access to the newspapers and was given a pencil, and yet this was the first time she caught it. Not knowing when a guard might come by she quickly tore the paper out, ripped it to shreds and flushed it down the toilet, letting the image of her little girl no doubt giggling as she named a cat, Cat, linger in her mind.

Two weeks later, her new habit had caught Alicia’s attention. They’d been going around in circles for half an hour when Alicia reset the conversation, and asked, "What's with the ripping out parts of your notebook Raquel?"

She’d gotten one more message, same principle but in another newspaper, and she’d be damned if she let Sierra catch on. She turned her palms up, “So, we're dropping all pretences that you haven't been reading it?”

“I mean...” Alicia threw her hands in the air, “What's the point really?” Leaning forward, she smirked, “So tell me, have you been writing down your deepest, darkest secrets in them? Or have you just been scribbling R plus P forever, drawing little hearts all around it? Is it R plus P, or R plus S? Which do you prefer? Professor? Or Sergio? Maybe Salva?”

Raquel shrugged as she laughed, “You caught me, I’m a hopeless romantic.”

Alicia bit her lip, narrowing her eyes, and Raquel wished not for the first time that Prieto was still the one interrogating her. “You're hiding something.”

_No_. She couldn’t let anything on, she desperately needed those messages in her life, they were the only thing linking her to her family, to Sergio, to the outside, to her sanity. Gathering whatever strength she still had, Raquel tried to appear nonchalant as she answered, “Could be... Or I'm losing my mind. You know you've held me in isolation far beyond what any international law accepts. Or national law for that matter.”

Smiling brightly, Alicia held up a finger. “That is also a distinct possibility. But really Raquel, there’s no need to write down your little thoughts only to throw them away, you know you can tell me anything.”

“Of course, I never doubted it.”

“You're in a good mood today.” Staring straight at Raquel with a grin, she asked, “Why is that?”

“Aren't I always in a good mood when I get to see you?”

Tapping her nails against the desk, Alicia eventually released a heavy sigh, “I see. Well, we're clearly not getting anywhere today so I'm going to go. Unless you have something you want to add?”

“Nope, all good.”

Back in her cell, Raquel almost collapsed. It was taking all she had to keep up with Alicia in these interrogations, particularly now that she had another thing to hide, and she was exhausted. She'd have to be careful. She’d been lucky thus far, Alicia hadn’t actually pressured her too much, having rather seemed focused on building a relationship, establishing trust. But that could change at any moment, and Raquel didn’t think she’d have the strength to withstand it if, or rather when, it would. The messages from Sergio were not regular, of that she was certain, she would’ve noticed them earlier if they had been, but if she had noted a pattern, and if Alicia even got an inclination that the torn pages were linked to the newspapers, then she'd soon connect the dots. There was nothing in those messages, but they were sacred to Raquel. They were the one thing she had that Sierra couldn't get to, and she needed to protect them at all costs. 

* * *

Sergio was hunched over the plans of Estremera prison, running a hand through his hair in defeat. He couldn’t find a quick solution. Not without orchestrating a full-on assault on the prison, or enticing a riot, which would entail victims, which in turn was unacceptable. He could probably work something out, but he would need time, a lot of it, and a team. And he doubted his team were particularly eager to throw themselves back into danger, this time to save the Inspector that, as far as they knew, had very recently been their foe. He couldn’t ask it of them and even if he could, he doubted they would be in a state to actually handle the pressure, doubted that he would be. There was his brother’s plan of course, but that needed fine-tuning and he would still need a considerable team to pull it off, not to mention get Martín on board.

Sergio could only see one way out, his plan B, the one he’d been mulling over since he found out Raquel had been arrested and pled guilty. The plan was far from full proof, but six months had passed, and he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to get her out and reunited with her family. And for that to happen, he would have to give himself up in exchange for her freedom.

A cup of tea was presented to him, bringing him back to the present, and he gratefully accepted it as Mariví sat down, glancing at the plans spread out in front of him.

“You’ve been staring at those all evening. Have you found anything?”

“No”, he said shaking his head regretfully, the guilt overbearing. “But I know what I need to do.”

“You do?”

He nodded but didn’t elaborate and Mariví sighed. “It’s my daughter Sergio. I trusted you, brought my granddaughter here. I have a right to know.”

Sergio removed his glasses and cleaned them, trying to buy himself some time. “I’m…” He put his glasses back on and tried to channel the Professor, to convey a confidence he didn’t feel. “I’ll negotiate her release in exchange for my surrender.”

“I see.” Mariví blew on her tea, took a careful sip and eyed him thoughtfully as she put the cup down. “You know… Raquel asked you to keep Paula safe, and she asked the same of me. But tell me,” she paused slightly before continuing, “did she ever ask you to come to her rescue?”

He shook his head.

“Did she ever suggest she might want you to turn yourself in to save her?”

He shook his head again.

“You’ve told me she knows where we are. If she wanted to trade you in for her freedom, don’t you think she would’ve done it by now?”

Shifting uncomfortably, Sergio avoided Mariví’s gaze, at a loss for words.

“I know my daughter. She made her decision, and you don’t get to reverse it for her. There has to be another way.” She reached out and patted his arm, “Maybe you’ve been too focused on that map, and it’s blinded you to other possibilities.” She took another sip of tea, then added, “But you’ll find a way, I know you will.”

Allowing her words to sink in, Sergio realised that Mariví was right. Raquel would never let him turn himself in, would probably find a way to rip him a new one if he did, and he had zeroed in on breaking her out of prison, shutting himself off from other options. He needed to use his head, to stop focusing on how pressing it all was. He needed to approach it from a different angle, a rational angle. He couldn’t be driven by guilt and by the fact that he missed Raquel, that they all missed her. And so it slowly came to him; he shouldn’t launch an assault on the prison, he needed to strengthen his efforts in building on what they’d achieved in the first heist, on the anger against the corrupt system that was currently holding Raquel under illegal circumstances.

**_Seven months after the heist_ **

Alicia’s visits had increased, the radio had finally been confiscated, and in the past two weeks Raquel had only gotten access to one newspaper, on one occasion. She tried not to lose her mind at what messages from Sergio she might have missed as a consequence, not to mention that being completely cut off from the world again was brutal. Between the frequency of the visits, Alicia’s mind games, the physical tole the pregnancy was taking, the hormones, and the prospect of giving birth in prison looming ever closer, Raquel was hanging on by a thread. 

She was tired. Tired of lying, of fighting an uphill battle, of the way she’d catch the guards and Alicia looking at her in despise. They either thought she was a traitor, or knocked up and pathetic, or both. She normally wouldn’t care what they thought of her, but her hormones were raging, she was so fucking tired, and Alicia was interrogating her again. 

For a brief moment, overtaken with fatigue and a deep sense of hopelessness, she was ready to tell Sierra everything, was ready to come clean. It would no doubt earn her a longer prison sentence, but at least it would end the lies, and she’d no longer be in isolation. She tried to focus on thoughts of Paula, of feeling the baby moving, of eventually being reunited with her family, with Sergio, but she couldn’t help but feel utterly alone. She had been alone for seven months now, and she was going to give birth alone. The thought overwhelmed her, and she did her best to fight back tears, as Alicia mercilessly hammered on.

“Raquel. You’re familiar with the expression don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time, aren’t you?”

She only had it in her to shoot Alicia a tired look, and the Inspector happily continued.

“Let’s talk about your little baby-daddy’s heist, shall we? Would you like to know how the hostages are coping in the aftermath? Spoiler alert, not so well.” She tossed file after file towards her, “PTSD, depression, sick leave, divorce, suicide attempt… You name it. None of them have been able to return to a normal life. And those are the ones who were lucky, who weren’t singled out and toyed with by members of the gang.”

Raquel blinked, refusing to take any of it in, unable to do so without breaking down. Alicia’s words tugged at her guilt, at what she’d always known to be true; that it wouldn’t be a victimless heist, the taking of hostages rendering that impossible. It took all Raquel had to try to ignore Alicia, to push her words aside and focus only on what mattered the most: her children, and the world she wanted them to grow up in. 

But Alicia wasn’t done, “Did anyone tell you that one of the hostages actually ran away with the gang? Takes the Stockholm-syndrome to a whole new level, wouldn’t you say? And then we have this gem of a criminal”, she tapped on a photo, “Silene Oliveira, alias Tokyo. She,” Alicia picked up Tokyo’s mugshot, holding it in front of her face, “had the good taste to play games with Alison Parker, all because the girl was apparently forming some bond with her boyfriend. Parker told us all about how she, half-naked, was corned by Tokyo who then proceeded to kiss her.” Sierra put the photo back down, rolling her eyes, “An underaged girl. How very refreshing.”

“But”, she riffled through the other files, opening one and holding up another photo, of Berlin this time, her smirk growing wider, “I saved the best for last…”

Raquel barely made it out of the interrogation without giving up and confessing to everything. 

If she had been thinking clearly, she would have reflected on why Alicia had increased the pressure on her, realised that Sierra was likely to be under a lot of pressure as well to get results. But after seven months, the world outside seemed so abstract she couldn’t even entertain the notion that there were forces at play other than her and Alicia, that the authorities couldn’t hold her indefinitely after all, that the fact that she was pregnant made every day they kept her isolated on vague speculations a ticking time bomb. Not for her, but for them.

Finally letting out the tears she’d struggled against through the entire interrogation, Raquel didn’t reflect over any of that, all she knew was that her inevitable collapse was creeping ever closer. 

* * *

It was taking too long, far too long. It had been over seven months since he and Raquel had parted, and while she was incarcerated, he was living a quiet life on the beach with her mother and daughter, and they’d formed their own little world, spending more and more time together. Sergio now joined them for breakfast on most days, went to the market with them, helped Paula with her homework, helped out with meals, spent time with them on the beach, took them out on weekend trips. 

He’d had dinner with them that night and Paula had made them all laugh recounting a schoolyard adventure she’d had. For a split second, he forgot all about the loss of his brother, and about the fact that Raquel hadn’t just left the table to go to the bathroom, that she was actually thousands of miles away, locked up. But pressure had increased on the authorities to release information about Raquel, to give her access to the outside, and sitting across from her grinning daughter, Sergio finally felt hopeful. 

The authorities wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer, pressure was mounting, something was bound to give and the second it did, he’d be ready to move. 

**_Eight months after the heist_ **

Raquel was well over being pregnant. She’d gotten big as a house, her limbs were swollen, she couldn’t see her feet, she couldn’t sleep properly, she was constantly uncomfortable, and Alicia just refused to leave her alone.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news, Raquel.”

Raquel’s heart caught in her throat and her mind immediately went to the worst case scenario, that they had found Sergio, Paula or her mother, or, even worse, that something had happened to them. She did her levelled best to hide her panic from Alicia, having no idea if she actually succeeded.

“Your case against Alberto has been dropped.” Sierra shrugged, “Lack of evidence. You know how it goes.”

She felt the wind knocked out of her. She’d always expected this, yet had held on to some hope that Alberto would be held accountable for what he’d put her through. Burying her face in her hands, Raquel was unable to hold back the tears, the first time that she’d failed to do so in front of Alicia. 

Once her sobbing settled, Alicia spoke in a soft, empathetic voice, and Raquel knew she was in for it.

“Look. I get that you got swept up in this whole love affair after what you went through with Alberto. It must’ve been hell. But what you’re failing to see”, Sierra took one of Raquel’s hands in hers, tugging at it, “Raquel. What you’re failing to see are the similarities between your bastard of an ex-husband, and the Professor. He told you everything you wanted to hear, didn’t he? Made you feel special? Showered you with attention? Focused entirely on you when you were together? Raquel… This is what abusive and manipulative men do, you know that. You know it better than most. Surely now that you’ve gotten some distance, you can see the similarities? Recognise the signs?” 

A thumb was stroking her hand, and Raquel couldn’t think clearly as Alicia pressed all the buttons at her disposal. 

“He used you Raquel. He used you, and then he let you take the fall for his crimes. Please, put an end to this, don’t make the same mistake twice. He’s not who you thought he was, just like Alberto.”

Raquel took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts, and a hand subconsciously came to rest on her stomach, a movement that didn’t go unnoticed by Sierra.

“Do it for your children. I can help you keep Paula if you help us catch him. You can get a new identity. Paula, your mother, that baby growing inside you, you can all be safe, away from Alberto. I can help you Raquel. _Let me_ help you.”

Looking at Alicia through teary eyes, Raquel swallowed hard, and finally asked in a tired voice, “What do you need me to do?”

**_Nine months after the heist_ **

There was still no news of Raquel, but hardly a week went by without a mention of her in the news, and both the EU and UN now demanded access to her. Having realised their best chance was for Raquel to be released rather than him breaking her out, Sergio had focused on channelling money for advocacy efforts, as well as making plans for reaching out to her and bringing her to Palawan once she got out of prison. There was every indication that the terrorism charges would soon be dropped and once that happened, she would no longer be in isolation, a lawyer would be granted access, and an early release should be imminent. Three years was far too harsh given her guilty plea and the evidence they had, and with the right amount of pressure, he had no doubt the authorities would relent and release Raquel, probably hoping to save face.

Sergio was reading the latest editorial on her case when, out of the blue, he received a video from one of his contacts. Opening the file, he recognised Raquel’s street, and her house. Hoping CCTV from her street meant what he thought it did, Sergio held his breath as he saw a taxi pull up, and Raquel walk out. 

She’d been released. Just like that.

After nine long months, he finally got to see her again. She was alive, whole, free.

He let the sense of relief wash over him as he watched her get out of the car, walk around to the other side where he no longer had a clear view but could tell the door opened, then closed. The taxi drove off, leaving Raquel on the sidewalk, an inconspicuous looking bag which he imagined contained her possessions hanging off one hand. But his attention was quickly drawn away from that bag as he stared at the grainy footage in disbelief. Hitting pause, he tried zooming in to get a better look at the bundle she had over her shoulder, the hand carrying her bag coming up to rest protectively over it. 

Heart pounding in his chest, he let the video continue and watched as Raquel adjusted the bundle, revealing a small head with a dark set of hair. He blinked in shock as he saw Raquel press a kiss to it, then head towards her front door.

_What the hell had he just seen?_


End file.
